Cage
by Racheakt
Summary: Part 1 of the Bird Series. Taylor triggers and is sent to an insane asylum.
1. Cygnet 1-1

[This story is also on AO3, crossposting it here]

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Cygnet 1.1

{Name for a young swan.}

My session ended in five minutes and I was not ready.

It was funny. I had deliberated this, waffled back and forth, looked forward to it and dreaded it and spent days crippled with anxiety. Now that it was happening I had no idea what to feel. I fidgeted, fiddling with my pen, doodling in the margins of my journal. My eyes drifted to Doctor Yamada's wall clock and back down to her and back again. She was reading something on her clipboard.

We'd tried talking for the first ten minutes, but it'd lapsed into silence that just stretched on and on. I couldn't help but feel rotten for that. It wasn't like I disliked Yamada. Our sessions were usually the highlight of my week. Doctor Yamada had been in my corner since day one.

At least I didn't need the straightjacket anymore. That had been awful- the feeling of complete helplessness; or, worse, the certainty when my control slipped that I could free my arms whenever I wanted. That I could get loose whenever I wanted, and just wasn't acting on it. I had graduated from the straightjacket to a band around my ankle. I had graduated from talking across a phone separated by glass in a twenty by twenty cell to a white padded room with a couch and a chair, a room that at least pretended to not be a cell.

Doctor Yamada was in a red blouse and khaki pants today, casual. She was a woman of about thirty with average height and a particular and calming air that couldn't help but settle you. In those first few weeks; in the padded room, in the straightjacket, alone, I had felt like an insect under a magnifying glass sometimes. But I had never felt like that when Doctor Yamada spoke with me, she treated me with nothing but dignity. I had found myself imagining her in the same context as Mom, always accompanied by a warm smile and a lifted mood. No matter what kind of bad day it had been.

It hadn't been a bad day for a while now, I'd come a long way from the straightjacket. She had stopped wearing the reinforced protective danger suits and now we were sitting in the same room together, it felt… nice.

There had been things I wanted to ask her, ways I'd thought about going about this, but that had been yesterday, now I couldn't remember a thing. I just couldn't think of anything to say; and that was a guilty hole in the pit of my stomach because this was supposed to be a major milestone, something I'd been carefully working towards for weeks. Doctor Yamada had insisted I could do it, and Doctor Selmy had backed her up- and now it almost felt like I was backsliding.

"Taylor, are you feeling all right?"

Doctor Yamada's voice made me jump. She was looking right at me, smiling slightly. I'd been so distracted I hadn't even noticed when she'd looked up. She was gently concerned, and just slightly worried.

 _She cares about my progress and is worried my fears will be self-fulfilling; putting up a strong front, but means it more than she realizes._

"Yeah. I'm just… thinking."

Doctor Yamada leaned back a bit. "It is okay to be nervous, Taylor. This is a big step for you."

I tried to smile, but it came out a bit shaky, I think, "It's… I'm fine."

Doctor Yamada nodded. "Good." She tapped her clipboard with her pen, then set it aside. "It's a shame Geoffrey is out of town; I know he would have loved to be here to see you off."

Geoffrey, he was Doctor Selmy. He was pretty cool too. Stepping out of isolation for a trial run and mixing with the residents had been his idea, he had encouraged me to take charge, have a stake in my own therapy.

If Doctor Yamada was the nurse, helping me heal and forget that I had been hurt, then Doctor Selmy was the coach- helping push me to do better and take charge of my own life.

I chewed on my lip a moment, debating. "Here-" I handed her my journal, open to the most recent page.

Doctor Yamada took the notebook and carefully read what I'd written.

"Interesting." She quirked an eyebrow at me. "Are you asking me a question?"

I shrugged one shoulder and pulled my knees up to my chin. It was difficult to put into words, and I was kind of afraid of what she'd say. I'd told myself I was crazy. It sounded crazy.

Doctor Yamada read what I'd written, then handed my notebook back to me, "Taylor, it isn't uncommon for parahumans to have some kind of vision, or an out of body experience when they trigger. Most don't remember the details, though a very small percentage do retain a clear memory of the event." She gave me a significant look. "Most often, parahumans with Thinker powers, though there are exceptions."

I blinked back at her, "So…"

"I don't think we know enough powers to rule anything out. We do not understand powers, and what we don't understand is frightening. It is perfectly understandable to be apprehensive. But I do not think you were hallucinating, no."

I took a deep breath. That… meant a lot to me, to actually hear that from someone. To hear someone say I was not crazy for once. My eyes stung. Doctor Yamada offered me a box of tissues.

I accepted with a wet sniffle and I blew my nose.

"Thanks."

"Taylor, are you ready for this?" Doctor Yamada asked earnestly, "If you aren't ready to take this step, you can wait."

"Thanks."

No, that felt weak. I tried to imagine Mom there with me, cheering me on. Emma. Doctor Selmy.

To get the impossible, you have to make it want you back. I remembered, one of Doctor Selmy's favorite truisms. I straightened and looked her in the eye. "I'm ready. I can do this."

That got a smile. Doctor Yamada stood up. "I think we're done here, are you hungry?" I stood up and we both walked to the door. She opened it for me and we stepped out into the hall.

I could do this, deep breaths.

At the end of the hallway we entered the elevator kiosk and security checkpoint. A uniformed PRT trooper in riot gear took Doctor Yamada's pass- we turned left, into the medium security residences. The walls and ceiling were all painted in soothing cream tones and the floor tiled in black and white- a throwback to Alchemilla's history as a hospital for patients less dangerous than I was. Relaxation benches that lined the halls sporadically, making the hallways a little less empty in the absence of framed pictures or windows. I did not miss the security cameras tucked unobtrusively into corners.

I loosened my control and let the voices in, just a little. The nudge filling in cones of line-of-sight for the cameras, like spotlights in a thick fog.

It was not a switch; nothing was turned on or off. It was a bit like being in a noisy room- tuning out all the other voices, all the other people talking. And using my power was paying attention to them and trying to pick out that one conversation I wanted to listen to. And sometimes the conversations were in languages I did not understand right away.

Dr. Yamada and Doctor Selmy wanted me to aim higher, to try for active control, and not just that but control in a social environment with a few controlled stressors. Hence, leaving my room under guard, but not in restraints, and eating in the cafeteria with other patients.

I desperately hoped this was not a bad idea. I could feel my palms prickling. Over the course of the month, after Doctor Galand had raised the possibility of eating in the cafeteria, I had anticipated this- looked forward to it, even. But now that I was here, I did not know what to do. I had built a routine, one that worked, one that was safe- one that left me firmly in control of myself and felt something approaching normal now.

The Pa chimed overhead.

 _"Attention Doctor Resch, please report to Doctor Young's office at your earliest convinience."_

At the end of the hallway were the cafeteria and another security booth, Doctor Yamada showed the officer on duty her pass, and then turned to me.

 _Playful._

"Last chance to back out."

I smiled back, I felt… determined… to try, at least.

"I can do this."

She gave me a reassuring pat on my shoulder, and stepped back. "Enjoy your lunch; one of the residents has volunteered to show you around, I'll introduce you afterwards."

This next bit was something I would need to do by myself.

The cafeteria itself was strangely… mundane. I don't know what I expected, actually. The kitchen and food line had a glass divider separating the cafeteria servers from the line of patients. I joined the line, shuffling along with them and kept my head down. The tray I picked up was made of something light and pliable, like Styrofoam, probably so it could not be used as a weapon.

I received a hunk of garlic bread.

"Move along."

The cafeteria cook dispensed a scoop of what was probably canned spaghetti on my tray.

"Move along."

I slid my tray to the end of the line and collected it, took one step away from the line, and immediately felt lost.

The cafeteria color scheme was hospital-soothing white and blue. I was faced with four long tables with benches, with a total of ten patients in blue seated with trays. Three staff in green scrubs moved between them, talking to them quietly. I could see one at the back talking to a girl. She stood out because she was not wearing blue. Her jumpsuit was bright warning orange, and seeing that made my pulse quicken.

I thumbed my own by the waistband, also orange, and felt myself shrink in on myself a little. I glanced up.

There was also armed security patrolling on the gantries above the cafeteria floor- at least two that I could see without turning my head. I averted my eyes and tried not to look.

A man on the front row stared across the table, rocking slightly whenever his attention wandered, occasionally and fretfully poking at his food. I skipped over him. Another, a woman, ate while quietly conversing with another patient, and served as perch to a vast blue eagle. Or falcon? I didn't know. Whatever it was it looked positively lethal, and huge, it probably had a wingspan of more than ten feet. It snapped its beak lightly at her conversation partner twice while I watched.

Every table edge was gently rounded and padded to prevent injury, probably in case someone fell because medication made them dizzy and split their head open on a corner. Or fell because they were pushed or shoved, or because they picked a fight with some telekinetic. Or something.

I swallowed.

Someone elbowed me sharply, growling under their breath, and I stumbled another step. It was a large, heavy woman with frizzy brown hair and a thunderous scowl. She didn't give me a second look as she shouldered past with her tray.

"Hey." I protested feebly.

A corner of my mind noted she limped heavily with every step on her left heel. My power supplied the cause: _an old break imperfectly set and complicated by her weight. It affected her balance. An angle was supplied; a shove just so behind her left kidney, just so, would send her sprawling on her face with hardly any effort at all._

I clamped down on that, hard. And then I swallowed even more nervously and loosened my filter.

Controlling it, guiding it, without letting it guide me. I tried to channel Dr. Yamada, and it only kind-of worked. I focused on the woman, and asked 'who is she'?

 _Her skin was very, very pale._ My power latched on and expanded- following the thread.  
 _Her skin was very, very pale. She had not seen sunlight in a long time. Years. She had been in the hospital a long time, decades maybe. She had been institutionalized even before she got powers._

 _Her trigger had made what she had before worse._

And what she had before- there it became less clear- the impressions got confusing and I couldn't interpret what I was being told. My head hurt.

I blinked and pulled back, tuning out the voice. And thus I was paying attention and saw what happened next. A girl darted out and tagged the huge woman on the shoulder. The touch was light- only a slap, but there was an exaggerated effect from the blow, and the big woman stumbled.

The girl laughed and darted along the table. By the time the bigger woman swung around, she was already reseated. The woman huffed angrily and looked for the perpetrator, but no-one volunteered her.

The woman turned away, muttering darkly- regular occurrence, I guessed immediately. I wanted to feel sorry for the woman; it seemed the right thing to do. But, she wasn't making it easy to sympathize with her.

I glanced across the cafeteria again.

One step at a time. I didn't need to jump into the deep end of the pool right away, right? Right? Right.

There was an empty space along the back wall; the last bench was almost unoccupied. Except the other person sitting there was the girl wearing orange. After a moment of hesitation I steered myself towards it, I threaded my way down the aisle, towards the back, head down not looking at anybody. There was someone whimpering and muttering under their breath nearby, but I didn't look to see who it was. I sat down in the corner, then stared at my tray and tried to think of a way to eat without a fork.

"Please- I- I just…" I lifted my head to see. It was the girl in the orange. She had her legs drawn up under herself, hugging her knees. The orderly knelt, talking quietly to her on the other end of the bench. I looked away quickly.

"Burnscar," the orderly said, "You know visiting hours, and you've used all of yours this week."

"I… I just. Can you ask the Doctor?"

It was a little strange- Burnscar was the one cringing and hugging her legs, but looking at them I got the impression it was the orderly who was frightened. He was crouching a few feet from her, almost out of arm's reach. "I can ask Doctor Werneck, he's the floor Doctor today, but you need to wait until the lunch period is over."

Burnscar nodded, fretfully pressing her face into her knees as the orderly stood and walked away.

I went back to my lunch and tried not to look at her. I only had my hands to work with, no forks. I pinched a mouthful of spaghetti and stuffed it in my mouth.

Burnscar.

I hadn't had much of a chance to read up on any current patients, or well-known parahuman cases. The name didn't sound familiar though. I'd need to look her up. I remembered seeing a computer lab or something in my orientation pamphlet, I hoped I got a chance to look at that.

I risked a glance at Burnscar.

She had a tray, but it was empty, and pushed away from her so she could rest her arms on the table and her head on top of them. Her shoulders hitched in a motion that looked suspiciously like crying. That… struck a chord in me.

Her hair was black, and cropped short. She might have been a few years older than me, in her early twenties, but she looked very thin. Not beanpole-skinny like me, just… thin, like she needed to eat a bit more. My eyes were drawn to her arms. There were 'ladders', cuts trailing up her arms.

 _Not recent, they were old scars_

That gave me pause. I remembered what my first day had been like, crying into my hand because I was so scared I didn't want anyone to hear, not even the Doctors. Doctors I knew were listening, through the microphones in the walls. Trying to keep my eyes close all the time and not touch anything because I didn't want to feel it in my head, and I couldn't control it.

I blinked, and then I felt a sliver of steel. Maybe it was my conversations with Doctor Yamada, but I picked up my tray and slid down the bench.

What I was doing was probably something very, very stupid. Anyone called 'Burnscar' was probably not a hero. But nobody was a hero here and I knew how it felt to be alone. "H-hey."

She reacted dramatically to my voice, head jerking up to stare at me. I was right, she had been crying, her cheeks were red, and down each ran a tear track of neat, round burns. She scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand.

"I… um, are you new here too?" I asked, then stuck out my hand.

"No… I've been here a while." She said, and stared at me with watery eyes. I let my hand drop limply.

"Oh." I floundered, "How long?"

"Four years." She said.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. What was I supposed to say? 'What are you in for'?

Burnscar. I wracked my brain trying to place the name the orderly had used, Burnscar did not sound familiar.

Her face fell at my hesitation, she looked away, back into her knees.

"Are…" I stopped, "Have you been an orange patient the whole time?"

Burnscar's face jerked up again, "Nobody ever stops being an orange. I mean, most. Usually they put you in isolation, if you're dangerous." She stared at her knees morosely. I got the impression she was in and out of isolation a lot. "I tried so hard. It's never enough. Nobody ever gets out of orange. Not unless they're heroes, really big names. Sometimes not even then."

The silence stretched on.

Nobody was here for a good reason; I did not want to know if she had killed anyone, or how crazy she was. It… it wasn't something I liked to think about either. I did not want to ask why.

'Hi, I'm crazy too'? I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and then had to do it again because my mouth was too dry and it felt like my whole throat was a desert too.

"What were you talking to the orderly about?"

She flinched away, somehow she tried to shrink even smaller in her seat, rubbing her arms like she was cold, looking at the floor. "I wanted to visit Elle."

"Elle?"

"My friend, the Doctors call her Labyrinth."

"Oh." That was another name that rang no bells. Maybe they both got sent here before they did anything? I'd heard that many of the patients were not dangerous as much as they were uncontrolled. But she was wearing orange, and patients given an Orange designation were actual physical threats at least some of the time, or under specific conditions. Also, the orderly called her Burnscar.

"I… I just…" she mumbled, "I need to talk to her. I- I hate it here and I can't think straight. Because of the pills. I just need to talk to her and they won't let me!" she raised her voice, "I hate it here. I hate it so much!" She slammed her hands on the table. Her eyes flared with an orange glow.

There was shuffling as the cafeteria moved to give us more space.

Security personal were moving on the catwalks in the corner of my eye. That niggling sensation was back, my palms were prickling and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I could feel my power working- whispering, and I let it.

 _Dangerous, an orange patient. They designated her Burnscar, something to do with fire? A pyrokinetic. There was more, something to do with emotion. Or… movement?_

The orderly that had talked to her stepped forward and tried calming her down. A big black man with pleasant features and broad shoulders.

"Burnscar-"

 _"That's not my name!"_ She snapped.

She was up and pacing now. Her eyes glowing orange in flashes, she was crying and shouting in turns.

"I understand- miss, please, calm down." He moved slowly, calmly like he was trying not to startle her. His voice was soft; the tone was the kind you might use when talking to an injured animal- soothing, level, placating. Sweat beaded lightly on his forehead and my voice was screaming that she was dangerous now.

The security personnel were moving overhead, more of them, I could hear one talking over a radio. I experienced a moment of clarity, I knew what was going to happen, there was some kind of peak coming. Burnscar was growing more and more agitated by the moment- gesturing and shivering and rubbing her arms.

I realized at that moment that unless I acted immediately Burnscar was going to end up doing something regrettable. Somebody was going to get hurt. Probably the orderly, maybe Burnscar. Maybe someone else- me, I was pretty close to her.

The stream of data continued: _Emotions, her power did something to her emotions, building to peaks and lows. It drove her to using them and rewarded her by releasing the pressure. She was in a negative spiral. Chemical changes, emotional highs and lows, followed by deadening of all emotions, and an addictive compulsion to seek the reward._

Derail the spiral. Distract her and diffuse her.

"What's your name?"

She whipped around and looked at me.

"…Mimi." She looked a little stunned.

"I'm Taylor," I said.

I immediately regretted it. Was she a villain? But, no, she'd told me her name first. She could have been lying, but, no, the impression surfaced that she was being truthful.

It was hard to adjust my expectations to the idea that it was different in here. I had grown up with the idea that heroes and villains looked different, sounded different, acted different. Every kid thinks about what they'd do if they got powers. But here it was… not what I had expected when I had imagined becoming a parahuman.

Doctor Yamada always addressed me by my name, once she knew I preferred it, and I liked that about her. I wondered if anyone here addressed Mimi by her name in those four years. One of the doctors had to have... right?

"Are you hungry?" I asked, "You didn't have anything on your tray." I gestured loosely to it, where it lay abandoned and empty in front of her.

"I- no." Mimi blinked again, "I wasn't hungry," She mumbled, and frowned a little. Like she was trying to figure out where this was going. Her eyes were not glowing, at least.

I picked it up, and it was like the whole cafeteria was holding its breath. "Well, even if I'm not hungry I know I feel better if I eat something. Come on." I took one step forward and grabbed her elbow, and tugged her towards the cafeteria counter. I glanced at the orderly out of the corner of my eye as we passed, he looked about as stunned as Mimi. Maybe more.

Mimi remained silent as I tugged her through the cafeteria line. We were the only ones in line now and I was not surprised. The cafeteria was… not silent, but very quiet. When I sat her down again she had the same limp green beans, canned spaghetti, and garlic bread I did.

After I sat her down with it, though… Mimi stared at the tray like she didn't know what to do with it. Instead of prodding her, I grabbed my tray and tried scooping some more spaghetti up with my hands. It was pretty messy, using the bread helped a little. After a minute she began to do the same.

I tried not to think about where I would be in four years. It frightened me too much. Instead, I finished my tray, and there didn't seem to be anything else to do.

"Thank you." Mimi blurted, as I picked it up. She couldn't meet my eyes, but I think I understood.

I tried to give her a smile, but I think it came across a little tired. The meds made me drowsy. "No problem."

Mimi looked up, and I wondered if it had meant more to her than I had thought. Her eyes were glassy and moist.

"You going to be okay? I need to go."

She jerked her head in a quick nod.

I left my tray at the drop off counter and headed back to the nurse station. Doctor Yamada had explained that one of the patients was going to be giving me a tour of the common rooms after lunch.

Now…

I was actually looking forward to it. Eating with Mimi had reminded me that I wasn't the only one here with problems. I felt a little less alone and lost.

The PA chimed overhead. Cheery.

 _"Alchemilla is one of New England's oldest and most prominent medical and psychiatric establishments. Dedicated to improving mental health since its inception in 1914 by Doctor Charles McNider."_

 _"Today Alchemilla is proud to operate as New England's premiere rehabilitation center, research facility, and parahuman specialty clinic. Alchemilla has a long and storied history as-"_

There was a mixture of orange and blue in the hallway, in Blue Ward, Block B, Alchemilla Memorial Asylum.


	2. Cygnet 1-2

Cygnet 1.2

{Name for a young swan.}

The cafeteria adjoined a small common room, dominated by a collection of well-worn, saggy couches and easy chairs facing a television- a foosball table in the corner, and a pair of old vending machines. There were chairs arrayed around two small tables, and a single small skylight that recessed so far into the ceiling that almost no natural light actually made it to the floor. A small bookcase with a collection of extremely dated magazines and very dog-eared books stood lonely and neglected in the far corner.

This was the sunroom.

A short, potbellied man in orange sacked out and snoring on one of the couches. A little girl in blue with wild blond hair… sat on the ceiling beside the skylight, idly kicking her legs in the air. I blinked owlishly at her a moment and looked away. I sat down looking out at the cafeteria as the residents filtered out, experimenting with touches of my power. I wasn't familiar with any of them, so it didn't give me much. Mimi left with one of the orderlies, darting me a furtive glance as she did so. She waved a little and I gave her a smile.

I was supposed to meet a patient, Sadboy. Doctor Yamada had said he had a different meal schedule, he would be coming back from one of the workshops after lunch ended. I had the impression this was an exercise intended to get me to reach out to the other residents. I didn't see him. I didn't know how to feel about that- I had a group therapy session scheduled later and didn't know how to find it. Maybe it was a scheduling error?

I fretted, turning that thought over.

Then I saw him, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Sadboy was one of those stringy boys, the kind stretched out by adolescence; still gawky, all elbows and knees. His hair was cropped very short, and he looked tired. There was no way to put it politely. He looked tired, had faint bags under his eyes, and his skin had that unhealthy pallor that accompanied exhaustion.

I considered offering my hand, but my experience with Mimi had made me hesitant.

"Hey."

He gave be a hesitant, shy smile, "Sadboy?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. Um. Auspice, right?"

I cringed. I hadn't picked the name, and it had been another jarring shock following my hospitalization and my… escape attempt. Every kid that imagines what it would be like to be a superhero likes to imagine a cool, imposing, and suitably noble cape name for themselves.

I must have shown my disappointment more severely than I'd thought. "Oh." He looked horrified, "Did you want me to call you something else?"

"No, no, it's fine."

He relaxed a little.

I'd heard from Doctor Yamada that codenames were important. One of the first things we had discussed was what I wanted her to call me. My name, or the cape name I'd been issued, or something else.

She'd also asked if I wanted to call her Jessica, but it felt strange to call my Doctor by her first name.

"Is it a big deal?"

Sadboy fidgeted, "Sometimes. Uh, some guys are really sensitive about that kind of thing, because they don't have a lot of control over their lives here. What they're called is a big deal. Cape names are one of the things the Doctors have to respect."

"And we have some control of our codenames?"

"Yeah. Some."

I _hmmed_ at that. "So… why Sadboy?"

He shrugged, eyes dropping, "It wasn't taken… I wasn't in a good headspace. Changing it just seemed dumb."

Oh.

I tried to smile, "Okay. Well, I know someone is going to start calling me 'spicy' eventually, and I'd like to put that off as long as possible. So, call me Taylor."

Sadboy's eye widened and he spoke slowly, "You need to be careful with your real name. We're given cape names for a reason. Some of the patients used to be villains."

I thought, if Mimi was a villain, I think I could live with that. Sadboy… I touched on my power for a moment to confirm a suspicion. He had… some kind of Thinker power?

If I had to make a guess, Sadboy was either a rogue, or he had been institutionalized shortly after gaining his powers- before he could make the jump to either hero or villain. That was odd; Yamada had said he had been a resident longer than I had…

Unless this was about helping him out of his shell just as much as getting me adjusted. Hmm. That was disconcerting. I… I did not like the idea of being trusted with something like that. I'd never done anything good with my powers. Not really.

That might be getting into too many layers. I shook the thought away.

"Well, what are we doing first?" I asked, attempting to get the orientation back on track.

"Um, well, You've already seen the cafeteria, and this is the sunroom. If you ever need some time to yourself it's always quiet in here, and it's never really, uh, crowded." Sadboy said, "There is a recreation center and a computer lab. I'll show you were they are…"

"Hey!"

I flinched, and turned so quickly my neck twinged. It was the girl from before- the one who almost knocked the overweight woman over. She crossed half the cafeteria in a single startling, flying leap, bouncing a little in the landing. She rocked back on the balls of her feet -and leaned over way, way into my personal space. She had brown hair, curly, done up in a ponytail, and an energetic and heavily freckled face, everything was moving. She twitched like she couldn't sit still.

She was wearing blue at least.

"Um." I said, leaning back, trying to reclaim some personal space.

"You're new, right?" the girl repeated loudly, "You are new, right?"

"Uh. Yes?" I managed, trying to back up. She followed me.

"Yeah, you'd have to be, talking to Burnscar. I mean, seriously, she's called Burnscar for a reason, you know. She's killed, like, twenty people. More people than Fusillade and Gator- and they were actual villains, you know? Gator almost went to the Cage. I guess you could have a really badass power or something. Are you invincible? Hey, what's your power?"

She stopped talking and stared at me expectantly.

"Um." I blinked, "I'm a Thinker."

She made a face, and leaned back, and I breathed a bit easier. It made me feel a bit less crowded. "Seriously? That's it? What do you do?"

"It's like… a localized… clairvoyance? Sort of?" I hesitated. Doctor Yamada hadn't told me to talk about me power- but she hadn't told me not to either. "It's a bunch of little things, and they're all sort of… tied to how close I am to something."

Heather frowned. "Oh, so you were safe because you were standing right next to her?"

"Not exactly."

She shrugged, "Kitchen sink cape? Whatever." She fidgeted, kind of… shimmied in place

"Oh. Hey, I'm Heather. The Doctors call me Glassboom."

"Uh… Taylor." I squeaked.

"Uh, hi…" Sadboy stammered, "H-hi Heather."

Oh. Oh my. That was adorable. His entire face was blushing, his ears too, and he kind of did this thing where he scuffed his feet.

"Oh. Hey Nick." Heather said, flippantly.

I guessed that not everyone was big on the cape names here. Sadboy- Nick wilted a little bit. That felt familiar, I guessed that he had been in love with the idea of being a cape. I could understand that. I wondered if I talked about capes like that before I triggered, if that was how I'd sounded.

Sometimes Emma and I'd told each other elaborate stories of what we'd do if we ever got powers. That all seemed so far away now. I'd wanted to be Alexandria; I'd imagined what it might be like to fly around righting wrongs, beautiful and strong and fearless.

"Nick's going to show me around." I said.

"Oh, sweet, getting the tour, right?" She glanced at Nick, "You're showing her around, right?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"I'll come with." Heather decided. No one else had say in the matter.

We headed for the hallway, Nick leading the way and heather bouncing… literally. She was jumping up and landing on her heels, and actually bouncing. "Hey, what's your power?"

Heather grinned, and kicked off the floor, bouncing in place like some kind of superball person almost up to the ceiling. I expected the floor to dent, she wasn't built heavy or anything but it felt like there was real force behind those impacts. Which was weird, because it didn't look like there was real force behind those impacts.

"Isn't it the best?"

"Uh, wow." I smiled nervously, it was a little unsettling how casually she did that. Was she allowed to just do that? Wasn't that dangerous?

"Yup!" She bounced again, on the floor, "Kinetic reflection."

A lightbulb went on in my head. When force is exerted, it goes two ways, equal and opposite. Hit something and you experience a counterforce. Newton's law. If that force was reflected, or she was immune to it, that was an awesome Breaker ability.

"It is, right? I can jump tall buildings in a single bound and shit. It's awesome!"

I could tell without even looking that Nick seemed to think so. "Where are we going first?" I asked, in an attempt to restart his train of thought.

"Oh." He said, "Uh, the Computer lab."

...

Thinker denoted any power that dealt with sensory or cognitive abilities. Anything that meant you knew things that you could not in a mundane way. That was cool, I guess. It didn't make me Alexandria, but it was mine, it was special.

I could get better, then I would be a hero, using my powers to help everyone. Make a difference.

Nick… had something to do with emotions, or maybe one emotion, singular. If I was right, it was a lot more offensively-oriented than mine. He had a nervous tick- of flinching when he looked at people. Perceptually-based, I think, and I don't think he could turn it off.

It was interesting to watch him interact with Heather, I studied both of them on the way down, mostly just watching, using my power to tease out more.

"You've both been here for a while, right?"

"Yeah, about a year. Heather said.

"Uh, about that long for me too."

"Were you heroes?"

"I was," Heather said, "For a little while."

I hesitated. I wanted to ask the question, but it felt like it would be impolite to ask. Heather answered my question without my asking. "Up in New York. Drove director Armstrong up the wall. I had a couple, uh, incidents." Heather said, still smiling, but not talking as loudly as before, "And, I… uh, tried to body-check a bus. Almost died."

She shrugged, still smiling, still bouncing on the balls of her feet. I tried to return the smile, it ended up a bit strained. "And you, Nick?"

"Uh… no." He mumbled, "I, uh. I came right here… After."

Well. There was not much I could say to that, was there?

The computer lab was actually kind of impressive. There was a collection of computers- actually rather nice ones, each separated by booths. For the most part, it would not have been out of place in a school library or college campus. The room had a high ceiling and a nurse's station, and I suspected that the booths were reinforced in ways you wouldn't find on a college campus. The entire room was filled with the sound of computer fans.

There was a sizable placard on the wall noting usage rules and warning that computer privileges could be revoked for bad behavior or at staff discretion at any time. There was a pocket-size library tucked into one corner of the room with a pair of easy chairs, a small coffee table covered in gouges, and four shelves of books.

"Yeah. It's pretty restricted though." Heather said.

"Well, you can get on PHO. And youtube. Uh, that's pretty cool. And there's a video library. You can reserve a timeslot for one of the movie rooms to play them too." Nick said.

I swallowed, "I can email my mom?"

"Uh, yeah." Nick said.

Yeah, that was a plus. I'd be doing that later.

"Okay!" I pasted a fake smile on and tried for cheerful, but probably came off as creepy, "What's next?"

"Um, the exercise room."

This took us down the hallway, and through another security checkpoint. This one did not require a card check, but did have two men in armor and full-face helmets. We had to sign a register.

"Do you ever get used to the security?" I asked.

"What?" Heather asked, "Oh. Yeah, that's something you get used to. There are four checkpoints inside the wing, but you don't have to be ID'd unless there's a lockdown. You can go outside the wing, too, but that needs ID, and a day pass and sponsoring from senior staff." She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the guards, "You get the idea."

The gym had about a dozen running machines- treadmills, stationary bikes, step machines. A couple weight machines. Not much else. Free-weights were out, according to Nick, because they could be used as bludgeons. Apparently, this had been a problem in the past. There were four other patients present, each with a supervising staff member.

There was a big double door on the far wall, which Nick explained lead to a recreation court. It was usually outfitted for basketball, Heather explained. "Do they always have attendants for exercise periods?"

"Yeah." Heather said, "It's kind of annoying, and it limits how long you can work out, but at least we get to use the gym."

I blinked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we're all low security. Hence the trendy blue scrubs. It means we get to move around some." She pointed to mine, "There are a couple patients with orange that get low security clearance too, usually Tinkers, or Thinkers like you. Because they're less dangerous, or directly dangerous anyway. Or capes who have a dangerous power but aren't dangerous themselves. Or heroes."

We left the gym and moved back out into the hallway, one of the group rooms was our next destination- back towards the cafeteria and the patient rooms.

"And Mimi?"

"Burnscar gets to move around a lot, because that's the only way to keep her under control."

I frowned. "She doesn't like that name."

Heather shrugged, "Gator, Hellish, Wendigo, Lizard Prince, Victim… Burnscar. Some of us here have names you'd _better_ remember. There are a couple too dangerous to lock up in high security or isolation."

"She was… nice." I felt obligated to defend her, she'd seemed really lonely, and she _had_ been nice-ish.

But Heather just laughed. "Good for you, but… well. If Burnscar is in a down mood she just gets all mopey if you call her that, if she's in an up mood… well, he's lucky you were there. Most of the doctors only call her Burnscar when they need to get her to do something in a down mood."

Wait, what? I frowed.

"Anyway, she's up and about in a low-sec wing because she cooperates sometimes. If she didn't she'd be kept in special containment, down below."

"Down below?"

"Special containment, and high-security. There's more than just parahumans, too. A couple Jamestowners. Some people who are under lingering effects from powers that transformed them or altered their minds."

"What are Jamestowners?"

"Oh." Nick said. That was interesting, I didn't think that someone could actually turn green like that. Nick, I was discovering, was very open with his emotions. I hoped he wasn't sick right here. "Jamestowners are… I think he's a Tinker? He's a villain, a big name down south. Somewhere in the Florida, Georgia, Alabama area. Somewhere down there. I don't remember much. Jamestowner's got some kind of thing with radiation, turns people into these big monster-things. If you ever see a big green monster that looks like it's got tumors for biceps, run. They're cannibals."

"Yeah," Heather said. She wasn't green like Nick, but she looked unsettled all the same.

I was preoccupied with the idea that these things could apparently escape. Then another thought occurred, my heartrate increased. "Are there any… aliens?"

That got a reaction. They glanced at each other, then back at me. "You mean stuff from the craters?" Heather said.

What I meant was definitely 'stuff from the craters'.

Back before I was born, back in May of nineteen eighty-four, there was a huge meteor shower. Meteorites impacted all over the globe. Parahuman powers started showing up around that time. The nearest was a big one in north Michigan, bordering Lake Superior. It had hit along the shoreline, so it was flooded out, and the bottom of the crater was inaccessible. There were a couple like it, big ones, a couple in Russia. The biggest was almost ten miles wide. It was generally agreed that the meteor shower and powers had a connection, but nobody could agree what that was.

And it wasn't like nobody had tried, either. There were expeditions made to investigate the craters. Sometimes people came back, sometimes they came back and they were crazy or worse, sometimes they didn't come back at all. And sometimes… things wandered out. The Mississippi Crater had spawned the Machine Army, and the township of Freedom California was trapped in a dreamworld that was generally agreed to have originated in the Rocky Mountains Crater.

Some people thought that was where the Endbringers came from. It was definitely where a lot of them went. But I didn't voice that thought.

"I don't know." Nick said. His voice was very small.

The group room was one of a cluster of offices housed at the far end of the wing. Like the rest of Alchemilla, painted in inoffensive and enervating pastels.

Aside from that, it was surprisingly plain. Plain blue carpet and off-white walls. The room itself was very bare, with only a circle of steel folding chairs. It looked… more mundane than I had been expecting. There were no motivational posters on the walls, though there was a bare and unadorned black folding table in one corner.

There was only one other there, a girl in orange scrubs, with the palest complexion I had ever seen. If Mimi had been pale, this girl was porcelain. Her skin was bone-white and so thin I could see the blood vessels around her eyes and in her eyelids, like two black eyes- that had to be fairly severe albinism. She had long platinum blonde hair that reached to her knees and made me vaguely envious.

She sat with a perfectly straight back, and was absolutely, _perfectly_ still. I had never imagined someone could sit so perfectly still. Staring straight ahead without any expression whatsoever.

It was intimidating.

But I remembered how surprised Mimi had been that someone had taken the time to even sit with her at lunch. Doctor Yamada had said that there were two ways to approach my stay: I could work to get better, and help those around me to do the same, or I could wait for things to get better. Only one of those options gave me control over my life. So, I lifted the filters in my mind and looked at her.

What I found was one of the strangest experiences in my life. The first thing provided was that she was not alive- or, many of the usual signs of life were absent. No heart, no blood. Her skin was pale, not because she had not seen proper sunlight in too long, but because it was not natural skin. It was a bizarre- the only descriptor that came to mind was 'polymer weave'. But that did not do it justice. Living tissue and some kind of ceramic or plastic seamlessly comingled. It made my head spin.

It was more than that too- she had once been human. Some of her still was, but now blended in a construction that was almost biological itself.

"-aylor?"

I blinked. Heather was waving a hand in front of my face.

"What?"

"You zoned out. It was creepy."

I blinked a second time. "Sorry. Um. Let's-" I gestured towards the seats, the ones beside the strange- was girl the right descriptor? I couldn't guess her age.

I caught sight of her hands, they were slightly oversized, segmented, like a porcelain doll's; the most obviously artificial feature I had seen.

It made me nervous, but I wondered…

I had never been good with people, especially new people. It'd earned me something of a reputation as Emma's silent shadow at school.

"Taylor, you can't sit by Charnel. And she's… not quite _all there_ , you know?" she hedged nervously.

"Violent?" I asked, leery.

"Shank you soon as look at you! She's got claws and fangs and she can bench press a car. Plus, she can set you on fire with her brain and spit acid." Heather said earnestly.

I stared at her a few seconds, mouth open a little. A moment later she dissolved into giggles so energetic she nearly slithered off her seat, "Oh, your face! Hahah!" I huffed and tried to glare at her, but it was funny. Kind of.

I could have probably avoided gaping at her antics, though.

"I got you!" She chortled, halfway to the floor, "I got you good!" Heather sobered up, "But, seriously, she's one of the bad ones."

I scowled a bit harder, "She's right here."

"Yeah, but she's not all there, you know?" Heather grinned back.

I started to get a little bit mad at Heather, and opened my mouth to say something, when it occurred to me that she was here for a reason, and I had not asked what that reason was. My indignation on Charnel's behalf kind of deflated and I just felt pained for both of them.

Nick cleared his throat, "Uh, what Heather means is, Charnel is someone who is… a lot less stable."

Doctor Yamada had told me that the group I was being introduced to was one that was one of the safest, which I was beginning to suspect meant 'controllable', or maybe 'predictable', I think. So Charnel ought to be safe enough. Probably.

And, she was right there. What Heather and Nick had shared enforced the suspicion that Mimi was not unique. Maybe not even particularly uncommon. I knew what it was like to be alone in a crowd, and the idea struck uncomfortably close to heart.

Emma had always been the outgoing one, the one that took the lead talking to other people. But I was going to get better, I had to if I wanted to go home to Mom and Emma.

And so, without preamble, I sat down next to Charnel.

"H-hello."

Charnel turned her head and looked at me- her whole head turned, her eyes didn't move. And the rest of her remained perfectly still.

"Hello." I said again, a little louder. I hoped it didn't sound as nervous as I felt. I also hoped it was my imagination, how quiet it had become.

"…Hello." Charnel replied softly. She had a smooth, dry voice. I had almost expected something mechanical but it was melodious and warm, while her face remained immobile.

"My name's Taylor." I said, "What's your name?"

She stared at me, "I do not recognize you. You are new. I am sorry, but are you one of the therapists?"

"No."

"I would be most happy to speak with you." She said. "But I am not supposed to."

She did not look away. The silence stretched on long enough that it became awkward, and I wilted. Squirming under her stare, I squeaked, "U-um, why?"

"It distresses the doctors." She said.

"…Why?" She did seem a little eerie, but not particularly dangerous. Maybe she had been a villain, but that hardly explained the doctors telling her not to talk to the patients.

"I obey what I am told to do." She said, "And answer any questions asked me."

"Oh…" That, that explained some of it, I guessed. …Sorta? …Well, not really. "I'm sorry."

"I do not mind answering your questions." Charnel replied, with just a ghost of a smile.

"I am not a human. I am kept here to study. The doctors don't like it when I talk to the other patients." She smiled that small, secret smile again, and she repeated: "But I do not mind answering your questions."

Heather and Nick were still standing by the door, watching with rapt fascination. "Would you like to meet my friends?"

"I have met Glassboom and Sadboy."

"No, I mean, would you like to talk with them. Be friends with them. Have them talk with you and treat you like a person?" Why would she be kept for study anyway? I could imagine the Tinker implants being worth study, but why would she be here, in a group with other patients then?

"I am not a person."

I stared at her. She… couldn't actually believe that, could she?

"You are. We are. We're all people."

"Not people. Not one of us are people, here."

"What do you mean?"

"We are swords and knives. But, here: most of us are bent, or rusted. But we might be useful someday, so we are kept, on the chance we can be used." I frowned, but she finished the thought without arguing, "You will understand."

I didn't know what to say, "Are you… okay?"

Her eyes looked right through me. "I am. You will be too." She smiled, faintly.

Other patients arrived. The heavily built man who had been sleeping in the sunroom, and a bald teenager in blue- who was so thin I'd almost call it emaciated, and startlingly pale. So many of them were pale! He introduced himself enthusiastically as 'The Great Cidersong' gave me a wide smile and proposed we be friends.

I think he was seriously ill, but I wasn't sure- it might have had something to do with his power. I couldn't be sure because even though he shook my hand, he did so with enough energy and enthusiasm that he nearly dislocated my arm. He bounced around the room less literally than Heather did, talking animatedly with everyone, gesturing and waving his arms like windmills. Heather and Nick both knew him, and I was surprised when the previously morose Nick actually cracked a smile, and laughed at his antics.

I sat and watched, next to Charnel, and the heavyset man Cidersong had come in with. The guy in orange that'd been napping in the sunroom. He leaned back in his seat and just watched them. After a few minutes he turned to me, and gave me a wink. "Thanks for being a good sport with Benny."

I blinked. "Uh, sure?"

He grinned, big white teeth in a dark face, "Not likely to get a warm welcome beyond this," He grinned, "Welcome to Alchemilla."


	3. Cygnet 1-3

Cygnet 1.3

{Name for a young swan.}

The door closed behind me and I breathed a heartfelt sigh. I was medicated up and locked in for the night without disaster. A victory.

But, standing in the center of the floor, my room felt emptier and smaller than I remembered it. The peace and quiet was welcome; but being out, being able to walk around and meet new people… I hadn't realized how lonely I had been.

Benny and Heather, with all their energy. Nick, shyly hanging onto Heather's every word- kind and helpful to me at all times. Charnel, silent unless I spoke to her, until Heather took her silence as a challenge and swung an arm about her shoulders too enthusiastically- they nearly toppled to the floor.

It seemed… so empty now, without them.

My cell was in the medium security wing. I would be transferred to new quarters tomorrow in the low security wing. In the meantime, I had a long night ahead of me.

There was a bed, but I wasn't going to be using it much. I headed for my desk in the corner. My computer was recessed into the wall behind thick shatterproof glass. The keyboard was affixed directly to the desk. There would be no moving it with only my hands to work with- which was annoying, but I couldn't complain. At least the screen was fairly wide.

I tapped the spacebar and waited for it to boot up.

There was a glowing digital clock set into the wall above the screen, behind another sheet of glass. It read nine seventeen. A bit less than eleven hours until breakfast to kill. It still felt unnatural with three months to adjust to it. The dots hadn't connected for almost a month, not after I'd shut down after the hospital. Closed off for days from everything and everyone. But there were a lot of hours in the day, more so now that I didn't need to sleep any more.

I logged in to my coursework and checked my grades. There was an educational program set up for the patients able to take classes. Having an extra eight hours a day meant I would be graduating from Highschool next year, if I could keep up this pace. Maybe earlier. I could also take college courses.

The program was… not very challenging. I didn't know if it was a facet of my power that sped things up, or if it was simply the short list of things I could actually do right now that helped me make progress the way I did. Or maybe not needing sleep and not getting drowsy had an effect on my ability to focus.

The constant quiet was unnerving, though.

Math. English. Social studies… Napoleon Bonaparte and his ego ravaged Europe and I read about it hundreds of years later.

Of course, not needing to sleep was not the same as not needing rest. The human body wasn't designed for it.

I felt my neck seizing and took a break, I still got tired. I didn't have any Brute powers bolstering my endurance. I hadn't gained super strength or a healing factor, and if I took weeks on wholesale without actual rest periods the little aches and pains would pile up. So I needed to make sure I spent an hour or so a day lying down and resting.

I did so, laying down on my bed and grabbing a book from its spot beside the pillow. Oliver Twist, and Dickens with dystopian perspective of nineteenth century London.

A chapter after 'please, sir, I want some more' there was a chime from the computer.

I glanced at the clock. Just past midnight. Sleeplessness and Alchemilla's long nights had given me a new appreciation of time. I only knew one patient that would try messaging me at this hour. She still needed to sleep, but she had frequent nightmares and kept odd hours.

The patient-access computers in the isolation wing had a self-contained electronic messaging system. It was intended primarily to allow certain patients that could not interact with the general population a healthy social outlet. Doctor Yamada had suggested it midway through my second week, and had even introduced me.

The camera window came up immediately, and Sveta's fretful expression filled it.

"Hey, Sveta."

She tried to smile, purple-red lips pulling back with a lot of hesitance. "Hi, T-Taylor, how was your first day out?"

I thought about that. How would I describe it? "I liked it." I said, because it felt wrong to say I didn't like it. Sveta was a parahuman- but unlike Mimi, Nick, and Heather, or even Carnal, she was profoundly mutated by her power to the point where she was almost unrecognizable as ever being human. Worse, her power was uncontrolled and indiscriminate, she was lethal to those around her. She could not leave isolation except under extremely controlled circumstances.

But, as I said it, I realized that it was true. I had actually, honestly, liked it.

"I _did_ like it. Huh."

It had been thrilling, to meet Mimi, even with that close call. And, I think I had traveled through the nervousness and come out the other side by that point. Heather and Nick had been interesting and fun. And Carnal had been… strange. But, she'd been interesting to talk too.

"What was your group like?" Sveta asked. "Who did you have?"

Like a child asking about a faraway land she would never see, but that they wanted to know everything about. Everything.

"It was… a little weird, to be around so many people with powers. I grew up with the idea that capes are… above it. You know? They go out and stop crime or fight villains and that's all, I never thought about what their lives were like outside that."

The doctor in charge had been a nervous intern that my power assured me had less than a year of residency. He'd kept smiling this terrified smile.

In addition to Heather, Nick, Charnel, and myself, two others joined us. One was the woman with the bird familiar, who turned out to have once been a fairly famous independent hero from new Jersey named Falconer and who told me I could call her Lethe. The other was a burly man that I actually recognized, Fusor. He was from the Chicago branch of the Protectorate. He'd not featured prominently for years though.

I guess I knew why, now.

"It's weird, or... no, that's not the right way to put it." I leaned back, "Surreal maybe. It just doesn't seem very real." Like a dream, almost.

...

I talked to Sveta for about an hour. She was full of questions, and when they were exhausted she told me about her painting. One wall of her room was covered in a mural that she was steadily expanding, but I couldn't see it, since her camera was fixed to the wall, just like mine. I promised to ask Doctor Yamada or Doctor Selmy if I could see it.

Sveta was about the most normal person I had encountered at Alchemilla, ironic considering how she looked. Which just highlighted a theme- most patients were not here primarily, or certainly only, due to mental illness. Most has some element of their powers that made them inadvertently and generally dangerous to themselves or others. Mimi, for example, had an element of her powers that drove her to use them, and induced chemical changes in her brain to encourage that behavior until it grew dangerous and indiscriminate.

Sveta was worse.

Sveta's power transformed her into a mass of prehensile fibers, stronger than steel and more elastic than rubber bands. These fibers would attack anything that arrested her attention, independent of her will, unless she actively suppressed the effect, and sometimes even then.

Worse, while she slept they would move her- and hunt.

Doctor Yamada had been sparse on the details, citing Doctor-Patient confidentiality, but my power had hinted at a horrific death toll. It was amazing that she hadn't been sent to the Birdcage.

It was doubly tragic because she was so nice and polite, I'd even say shy.

But, unlike me, Sveta did need to sleep. She eventually signed off, and left me to my silent cell until I was called down for breakfast by one of the Doctors I didn't know well, Doctor Jenkins.

He was hard-eyed but not otherwise unpleasant, his brown hair was threaded with grey. His manner was a bit brusque but otherwise polite, and looked a little harassed; his coat was rumpled. I had met him only once before, when Doctor Yamada had explained my schedule for the first two days in medium security. I was surprised, I'd thought that Doctor Yamada would have been available. She had said her schedule was basically clear for the next week. Doctor Jenkins explained there had been an emergency in another block and she'd been needed on short notice.

I tried not to take it personally.

I had my one box, just a shoebox and some notebooks filled with scribbles and a set of colored pencils. I hadn't drawn much. I liked drawing, but an empty cell did not lend itself well to creativity. I was glad to leave it behind. I didn't have clothes or anything else to bring. Patients only wore scrubs and I hadn't been given much. Just my socks and slippers.

We retraced my path from the day before, passing by the cafeteria and instead entering the residential wing. The rooms looked identical from outside, all metal plates with small windows; identical six-inch squares of safety glass reinforced with black wire. Doctor Jenkins opened one and stepped in for a moment. There was a tiny, tiny placard above it, squinting I made out 108.

The room was a bed, and a small bedside shelf recessed into the wall… and what looked like a sink that was also a toilet, and nothing else. It was a little nicer looking than the one I had in isolation, but also smaller, and the walls were still padded. The absence of a computer was a little more jarring. That was probably a concession to patients in isolation.

But that was not… too important. I wouldn't be stuck in it all the time now. Still, I hoped there was some allowance to patients that didn't need sleep. Maybe I'd take up painting, like Sveta, that could be fun.

Doctor Jenkins closed the door, and gave me a card. If I locked myself out by accident, I would need to find a staff member to unlock it for me.

"If you lose it, report it to a staff member." He said, "The doors are automatically locked after curfew, but staff can unlock them. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

I was on rotation three, which was important because apparently there was a maximum number of patients allowed in the cafeteria at one time. If I missed a meal, I would need to let one of the staff know.

I wilted a little and wished Doctor Yamada had been available.

...

Breakfast immediately felt different when I arrived. The room was holding its breath, tensed and taunt. If it had been quiet at lunch yesterday, this was some kind of calm in the hurricane. It was obvious, even without my power.

I could feel the eyes on my back like a physical presence, tracking me as I moved down the line. I hesitated then relaxed my mental grip- and it felt like needles dragging over the back of my head, poised to jab at any moment. At least five steady watchers, but there was attention coming from all over the room. I was in a cold sweat before I reached the end of the line, there was a lot of attention on me. There were more guards on the catwalks above us too. What was going on?

I got my tray without seeing it, filled it in autopilot hardly aware of moving, all I could feel was the attention on me. My stomach started cramping with the tension and I clenched my fists and I tried to control my stomach.

I took deep breaths, tamping down of my power entirely. Deep breaths, I loosened my fists, and then pushed out with my power like I'd done with Mimi and raised my head.

I surveyed the room, and was disappointed when I didn't see anyone I recognized, which was disappointing and unnerving with that weight on me. There were a few empty places, and one table that was kind of packed, five patients together. That was where the constant pressure on the back of my head originated from.

Reading them was difficult, they were halfway across the room, and I'd never seen them before. My power worked better with things, people, situations I was closer to. I still didn't know all the rules.

I closed my eyes.

Why was I in danger? Was it because I'd talked to Mimi? Did she have enemies, someone who bore her a grudge? Was it a hazing ritual of some kind? I didn't know my power well enough, was it blaring so urgently because there was more than one of them, and the actual danger was minimal?

 _"Some of us here have names you'd better remember."_

I walked to a seat as far from the five as I could. It wasn't very far- they were in the center of the room. I took a deep breath and opened the floodgates to their fullest.

There were eight guards on the catwalks, and two more at the doors. Plus, cameras, like spotlights in the corners of the room. There were sprinklers on the ceiling, and my power hinted they dispensed more than water or fire retardant.

I narrowed my focus to the five points of aggression, but it was no good, they were too far away. I turned slowly and looked over my shoulder.

They were a knot of two blue scrubs and three oranges. I had a quick second take. Two of them… no, one had gigantic, staring, lidless eyes. Another, a girl with bright red hair so thick I wanted to compare it to yarn, she had a what looked like a quilt of cloth and flesh squares for skin. Another of them, a girl, she had strange rubbery tendrils hanging from her head in place of hair.

Monster capes.

I blinked and touched on my power. They were the cause of the disturbance, but that was the most I could pull off them. The aggression directed at me was… _unfocused_ , less malicious and more curious. I was new, and they were restless.

I… I just couldn't pick any more off of them from where I was.

I turned back to my food and took another deep breath. These five where out of place. Mimi had been out of place yesterday…had Mimi been a transfer from another meal schedule? She had been the only real danger yesterday. Where had these patients come from? What had changed today? What had _happened_?

By the time breakfast was over my stomach was cramping in earnest, but they hadn't moved. It was nerve-wracking. I had a session with Doctor Yamada scheduled after breakfast, I was supposed to meet her at her actual office this time, but now I wasn't sure if that was still going to happen.

I discarded my tray and hurried out the door. Nobody tried to stop me, but once outside I was at a loss. The section station was a flurry of frantic activity, with both stationed nurses working the phone and a large binder of what I guessed was some kind of procedure manual. I was definitely picking up urgency, just short of panic from them. I waited, feeling a little awkward, until one of them was free and I was directed to Doctor Yamada's office, a wooden door in the same block of offices that had housed my group meeting yesterday, next to several more. The placard read Jessica A. Yamada, PhD, LPCMH, LCPP, but knocking yielded no response.

There was a line of chairs arranged against the wall opposite the offices, I took one of these and watched the clock.

I… was not apprehensive about talking to Yamada. But I definitely had some lingering nerves, I think. Doctor Yamada had always been on time to all of our sessions before, it was unsettling that she hadn't shown up. That… _thing_ at breakfast had been unnerving. I did not feel safe the way I had yesterday.

Overhead, the PA system gave a cheery chime.

 _"Attention staff. Code 3E in residential wing two. Repeat, code 3E in residential wing two. Be advised, faculty status has been elevated."_

Hmm.

A couple security passed me wordlessly, moving at a brisk pace down the hallway. The feeling I pulled off them was wariness…this was connected to whatever had changed the atmosphere at breakfast.

It had happened again, and the staff where being redirected to deal with it. Not quite a crisis of some kind.

I waited. I had begun to wonder how long I would need to wait; I did not have an outline for the rest of the day. That was when I heard a squeak.

"Andrew!"

Someone blindsided me- there was no time to react. Arms wrapped around me, picked me up and twirled me around and, oh, fast; I felt like a ragdoll in the arms of an energetic two-year-old. "Andrew, Andrew, Andrew!" Someone was saying, "Oh, Andrew, I missed you so much!"

I must have been too preoccupied… What good was this power anyway?

The twirling stopped and I was set back on my feet. She wasn't a two-year-old; she was actually a curly-headed woman that looked about twenty-five, wearing blue scrubs. She was very baby-faced and dark, sporting a grin from ear to ear. She did not recognize my poleaxed expression for what it was, and was off spouting words a mile a minute.

"Andrew, where have you been? I've looked everywhere for you! Nobody would tell me where you went, they kept saying such strange things." She frowned a moment, then the smile was back, "But I got away, and of course I found you!" she hugged me again.

"I-"

The woman let go and took a step back, peering at me very closely, "Don't… don't you recognize me?" she asked, a little hesitantly.

"I- No, I don't. My name isn't Andrew."

"It is, it is!" She said, "Not again… Do- do you remember my name, at least?"

I, well. My power wasn't telling me she was dangerous, I had no idea what to do, "No."

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Okay, okay. That's all right, you do that a lot, you'll remember, eventually!" She opened her eyes and smiled- a shallow, slightly vacant smile. Her eyes were unfocused, "My name is Yuliana… do you remember anything, does that help?" She started hesitantly patting my shoulder. She sounded like it was meant to reassure herself.

Her face crumpled miserably, "Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't." I said.

"I… I can help you remember."

I shook my head slowly. She was… I was not sure. My power was reading her as sincere. And harmless. I didn't think she'd get violent if I suggested we go somewhere, somewhere I could find a staff member for help.

"… Um. Let's go and… uh, sit down and… talk?"

"But we've got to go, before they catch me." She protested weakly and blinked without focus. I took her sleeve and led her back up the hall. The library was just around the corner, I steered her towards it. Maybe there would be some staff…

Inside, a man was pacing along the back wall, but the stations were empty.

"Hungry... hungry... so hungry. What? No. I'm not hungry. The worm is hungry. Hungry for me, for you, and for fire. Hungry."

I cleared my throat, "Hello?" Wasn't there supposed to be a nurse in here with the patients… or something?

"…Anyone?"

"Andrew?"

I glanced at the woman. She looked… confused. That vacant look was still there, but the focus she had before was gone. She wandered, looking from me to the mumbling man.

"Andrew. Andrew, I…" She blinked, "I don't understand."

Can't distinguish faces between individuals. Dementia.

I took a deep, deep breath.

"Why don't you sit down…" I didn't know her name. I guided her to a bench. Secretly, I was beginning to feel a little alarmed- truly, honestly alarmed. Where the hell was the staff?

 _(Along the back wall, the man kept pacing._

 _"The sun! It burns! Why does it burn? Why have we put the sun into a jar? And what did we do with that jar? We broke it all over our little world... And now the Worm eats the sun, tunneling, tunneling in the dirt."_

 _The man's mad babbling continued as he paced the wall, from one end to the other and back with uneven steps, wringing his hands.)_

I felt helpless, what was I supposed to do with her?

"Andrew, Andrew… I'm confused. The Doctor told me you were dead, the doctor said." The woman said tearfully. "But you're here aren't you?"

"Yuliana," I patted her hand comfortingly, only to recoil, burned. Her skin.

 _Parasitic leeching effect through contact- my power supplied. Host-body nutrients stripped from whoever she touches. Induces thinned blood- anemia -brittle bones, fatigue; receives a Brute-like recovery from injury and exhaustion._

I breathed deeply, I hadn't been paying attention. Of course she had powers, I hadn't been looking for what her power was, my power had picked it up, supplied it. But I was so used to tuning it that I hadn't recognized it for what it was until I touched her, and my power screamed the danger.

I couldn't afford to keep ignoring it like that. Another deep breath. All right, I needed to pay attention. Yuliana's power could cause permanent injury.

She was still blinking at me vaguely and expectantly.

"Yuliana," I tried again, patting her shoulder, the jumpsuit, this time. "We need to find a doctor. There's something wrong with… something wrong."

Yuliana started crying softly, "Do I have to go back in the hole?"

"The hole?"

"The… the hole." Yuliana said, "We fell in. It was so dark and I couldn't get out." She sniffled.

She was… lonely. Lonely, confused, unfocused.

 _Power encouraged confusing friend and foe. Has lived in a fugue state for years._

I glanced back at the babbling man, he was moving back in our direction, shuffling along the wall; wringing his hands and shaking his head.

"-Now the bad days have a way out, to make us remember they're still here! Forever here! Staining the parlor carpet, no matter the furniture we drag over it. Why does it want the tears and blood?" He said, "Never known but hurt, before the Worms. Drank of every life lived. Carrying all of us into eternity. Why does it have to last forever, forever?"

He deviated from his circuit, wobbling his way towards us, and my power began to prickle. Oh no.

He was… thin, his head was shorn very short, and his face was covered in thick stubble. He had a receding chin. The man did not look very dangerous, but that didn't mean much for a parahuman. He almost passed us when his head whipped around, staring wild-eyed and bloodshot and surprised, like he was seeing us for the first time. My power spiked as he opened his mouth and roared.

"Back! Not one step further! Not one! Come no closer! I'll blow us all to hell! All of us! Me, you, and you... and the Worm..." He raised his hands, glowing and sparking red.

Oh, damn it.

He was some kind of Blaster- hints at pressure and a Thinker power that helped him aim. And unlike Yuliana he was definitely violent.

"Beware, Worm, I shall destroy you with the fire of this small sun. I'll do it, I will! Beware, worm!"

I edged towards the door as he continued to shout, tugging Yuliana along behind me by her sleeve. No way was I leaving her alone with him.

"And they shall weep. Weep! _Weep!_ Tears of salt and earth and dirt!"

The library door closed behind us, cutting him off.

"Okay."

The hall was quiet, but not deserted, two patients were having a conversation around the corner. "Come on Yuliana, we need to find someone who knows what's going on."

There were checkpoints, there were security at the cafeteria and a checkpoint on the way. There would be security. There had to be security. But the closest checkpoint was empty- just a locked gate and booth. I detoured back to the nursing station and found it reduced to a single man, who looked both frazzled and grimly determined to remain upbeat.

His nametag read 'Davis' and looked new.

"Um," I ventured, "I think this is Yuliana, and I think she's…"

The man was balancing a clipboard in one hand and a phone in the other, and when he looked over his entire face lit up, he definitely recognized Yuliana. "-hang on, just found one." He set the phone down and looked up, and flashed me a smile. "You, little lady, are a lifesaver."

"Ah." I glanced at Yuliana, who was squinting at the nurse, "I found her- she found me back in the offices. I think she's, um… a little confused."

"Yes, thank you. Thank you very much, miss. There was an accident this morning. The whole faculty is in an uproar. Some patients in specialized care slipped away in the mess. Could you please escort her to the Operations Center? It's further up towards the Cafeteria, it'll have a bunch of stressed security guards"

That… that wasn't my job. But I could tell he was desperate.

"Uh, I guess. Before I go, could… I was supposed to meet Doctor Yamada for a therapy session, is that canceled?"

Davis just shook his head, "I don't know if she'll have any sessions today."

So that was that.

I took Yuliana's sleeve and set out towards the recreation wing. About twenty yards further the hallway forked again. I drew on what I remembered of the layout- but I hadn't been paying attention yesterday as much as I wished. We passed security cams, I made a point of walking in front of them, in case it prompted security to intervene. I should have been using my power to map the halls!

Another branch, a T, with one branch I was fairly sure led to one of the residential blocks, the other ran back towards the cafeteria. I stopped at the crossing- my power pinging… familiarity- there was something headed our way, I could feel it, and had a general direction. I was fairly sure it was in front of us, the hall leading towards what I hoped was the Operations Center. It didn't feel like Nick or Heather, or Yamada. I was fairly certain there were more than two. A moment later the prickle of danger accompanied their approach.

"Yuliana," I said, "We're going to need to be quiet for a bit, okay?"

"I," she blinked a little unsteadily.

 _Seeing multiple people together disorients her._

There was a bench on hand, and I steered her to it, glad there was somewhere for us to sit while I concentrated on the impressions. It didn't feel like Nick or Heather… who else would it be? The prickle of danger accompanied their approach and increased as they drew nearer. I was fairly sure there were more than two.

"Come on." I pulled Yuliana down the fork. Maybe I could just let them pass us by. The prickling grew worse.

I heard footsteps and then I saw them, turning the corner and headed right towards us- for a moment they slowed, seeing us. Then they picked up the pace, five patients, three of them in orange. The five from the morning, at breakfast- the ones my power had flagged as dangerous, the girls with the hair and the man with the huge eyes. They were moving quickly, arms filled with plastic bags.

I thought about running, but that seemed unwise. They didn't have any particular reason to be interested in either of us, if I didn't do anything to attract their attention maybe they'd just leave us alone.

Then they drew even with us and slowed, tentacle girl stopped. But one of them- the man with the huge eyes -missed a step with their attention divided and bumped into her, and the cloth girl behind him bumped into him in turn. The bags they were carrying rattled, and some clinked.

A couple pill bottles fell to the floor and prompted round of muttered cursing as they untangled and picked up their loot.

Drugs?

The girl with the tendrils in place of hair caught my stare; her hair was… eye-catching- long flat things, dark purple- they hung to her waist, long and rubbery and they twitched. Her eyes narrowed, they were odd too, really weird with four-pointed pupils.

"Who're you looking at?" she demanded.

"Leave them, let's get out of here." That was the… cloth-girl? There were two others: the guy with gigantic, staring, lidless eyes… and no mouth or nose. A cat-man, with too many teeth and strange, flat, pebbly growths on his arms.

And the patchwork girl. Her mouth was a tear in the cloth.

Then someone pushed me, at knee height. That might have been the strangest of the lot, it was a little girl. But her wrists were attached to her hands with… ball sockets? Her hair was in perfect brown ringlets, like a fancy china doll. The texture of her face reminded me of Charnel- that same odd, artificial texture.

She stood in front of me, head level with my knees, glaring up at me.

"Staring with your jaw hanging open like a caveman. You are incredibly rude, and stupid."

"Um, sorry." I said. What else could I say?

"Can we go now?" That was the cat man with the weird arms. His arms were full of bags too, all of them, bags with pill bottles and alcohol.

The girl with the tentacles cocked her head, she'd seen me looking. Tentacle girl sniffed and gave me a shove, sending me bumping up against the wall and Yuliana, "I don't think she's sorry enough."

I blinked, adrenaline peaking. My eyes darted between them.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." Yuliana gave a dismayed shout when she shoved me again, hard.

I tried to stand and stumbled, sending me sprawling. My hands flew out as I fell, trying to stop me. I my head hit the bench on the way down. Stars danced behind my eyes as I tried to gather myself up.

Tentacle girl's bags hit the floor, and pill bottles and boxes spilled everywhere. I wasn't very familiar with them, and the drugs themselves locked away in their bottles made the hints of use and effect a vague blur. Those ones raised heart rate and produced a rush of endorphins- happy drugs. Those made you sleepy. There were tranquilizers and anti-psychotics, drugs for anxiety, anticonvulsants, antidepressants… I couldn't process them all, it was a vague mess.

A hand seized my hair and pulled my head back, dragging me away from the wall and into the center of the hallway. The girl with tentacle hair pulled me up into a kneeling position, and I looked up into a boy's face.

He was pale, maybe three or four years older than me- with longish black hair. He looked mostly normal, but his eyes were a strange, cat eyed, slit and yellow, watching. And my sense screamed danger.

The girls with the tentacles for hair giggled.

For a moment I was somewhere else.

 _The dumpster smelled of wet cardboard and alcohol. The asphalt glittered with broken glass. It was strange; I could swear I heard a clock ticking somewhere, and a bell tolling along with my racing heart. Metal in my hands-_

I breathed, that wasn't now, but I was in danger. Visualize an outcome. What assets did I have? I couldn't leave Yuliana, I couldn't run. I could not, did not want, to hurt them or kill them.

But she was touching me.

 _My hair in her hands, her right hand in front of her left. She was left handed. I knew exactly how her weight was distributed, how her feet were spaced. How she would move if I leaned this way- how she would act if I pulled that way._

I stepped to my left, back and into her, upsetting her balance -and reached up, grabbed the wrist holding my hair. I pressed my thumbnail into the underside of her wrist as hard as I could, in to the long tendons attaching to larger muscles in her arm, she immediately let go with a squawk. She tried to re-capture me, reaching back with her left hand.

She was left handed. I guided her arm away from my hair, going right, dodging her first wild swipe. She kept trying to grab left and I kept going right. I turned, neatly sliding out of her grasp as I stood. I brought my elbow up under her arm, jabbing her ribs. She let out a grunt and stumbled back a step as I rose to my feet.

I was breathing heavily. Keeping control. But my danger sense wasn't prickling any more, even from the tentacle girl- who was rubbing her ribs with mild annoyance and nothing more.

Curiosity. They were bored, antsy, looking for something new, and I was new.

I rubbed my head with one hand, a bump was forming and I think the stickiness was a bit of blood, and there were four of them. Even without that doll-thing. Yuliana wouldn't be any good if I had to fight. She was sitting against the wall, rocking gently and muttering into her knees.

"Sorry about Inkling." The boy said, "It's how we do things here. Scoping out the fresh meat. Seeing where we stand." and… he smiled, "Welcome, to Alchemilla."

He was playing with me, used to being in control. I met his yellow-slitted eyes. Sociopath.

"Wow, don't you look scared. Want me to squirt her?" Tentacle Girl asked. She had only three teeth, weird teeth, big interlocked triangles. Two on the roof of her mouth, one in her jaw. It gave her an odd lisp.

"Nah, Ink, hang on." The boy across from me shifted from one foot to the other. "What do the head shrinks call you?"

"… Auspice."

"Oh, well. I apologize." he said. "I am Lizard Prince, and king of Alchemilla. These are Inkling," he nodded towards the girl with the tentacle hair "And these are Prowler, Frog, and Quilt." The cat man, the man with huge eyes, and the girl made of cloth. "And Marionette." He patted the short Doll-thing on the head.

I nodded slowly.

"I see you found one of the Chronic patients."

I glanced at Yuliana, "Chronic?"

"The ones that don't get better." He replied, "Actual crazies. They aren't considered for release. Too unstable."

"She talked Burnscar down from a blowup." Quilt replied, she was standing a little further back.

My power pinged that. _Burnscar is a chronic patient too._

Quilt looked a little out of place. I had the impression she wasn't as comfortable with this- she didn't like direct confrontation the way the others did.

"Oh?" Lizard Prince looked delighted, "That sounds interesting, fascinating. I'm sure to keep an eye on you. You have the makings of a… troublemaker."

Lizard Prince gave me a nod, still smiling thinly, and turned. The rest of his gang fell in behind him as he walked off.

I didn't relax. I didn't breathe a sigh of relief, and waited until I started having difficulty tracking them with my power before leaning against the wall and bracing my hands on my knees to still their trembling as I came down from the adrenaline.

Okay. I was okay.

"I… I'm sorry." Yuliana muttered faintly.

I looked at her, my nerves were starting to feel frayed and a tension headache was coming on. But she blinked at me- still dazed, still confused. I didn't have it in me to be annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." She said.

I sighed, "Come on, Yuliana, let's go find someone who knows what to do with you."


	4. Cygnet 1-4

Cygnet 1.4

{Name for a young swan.}

The Operations Center was a bigger Security Booth adjacent to the Cafeteria. And it did, indeed have a lot of stressed security guards. There were about six talking on radios. About an equal number of green scrubs hovered on the periphery. And three others. These ones were not in scrubs, and not in guard uniforms and plates.

Capes. I slowed a little. The closest one- a graceful, willowy woman -caught sight of us.

"Wick." Activity slowed, for just a moment, "All right everyone, this is good, but Victim and Lazyeye are still loose somewhere. Victim especially, I want her caught in the next twenty minutes' people."

She turned to one of the doctors, "Well, Doctor Foster?"

Doctor Foster emerged from the back of the booth, a man greying around the temples, with a bit of a paunch and a vest and tie. He stepped forward, holding out a hand, "Yuliana?"

I glanced at Yuliana, she was swaying gently, eyes glazed. Her gaze wandered across them, to me, and I tried to give her a reassuring smile. When I glanced back to Doctor Foster, he had put on Latex gloves, and took her hand gently. "Come along dear, did you eat breakfast yet? I guess you missed it in all of the excitement."

I watched them go. Two guards peeled off to follow Doctor Foster and Yuliana at a discreet distance.

I'd met Doctor Foster once before, when I'd just arrived at Alchemilla. He'd helped supervise testing my power. He was a prominent researcher in the field of parahuman psychology and powers. Still, something rubbed me the wrong way about him. I couldn't quite put my finger on-

"Hello."

I snapped back to the present.

The tall woman stepped out towards me. She was pale and fine-boned, carried herself like she was in charge and everyone ought to know it.

But she had a slight limp, and she had only one leg.

She wore a green costume, very practical with pads and a tactical vest, but the pants only covered one leg and the other was a slender, gleaming prosthetic well past the knee. Most of her face was covered with a half mask extending from under her collar up over her nose. He hair was very straight and black, and cropped ruler-straight at jaw length. Elegant and commanding.

"Auspice, right?"

I was instantly shy and felt about an inch tall. "Um, er, y-yes?"

"Thanks for finding Wick for us." She held out her right hand, "Summer Holiday."

"H-hello." I breathed. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh. I shook her hand- she had a strong grip. I tried to ignore the ping from my power before I let go.

 _… something to do with light and force and-_

I was talking to an actual superheroine! I couldn't remember if I'd ever seen her action figure anywhere, and it wasn't like I was talking to Alexandria or Eidolon or Hero, but I was talking to an actual hero! I felt giddy!

Oh, Emma would be so jealous!

Emma would be…

Oh…

And just like that, the moment was ruined, spoilt. I deflated. Because Emma wasn't here. I suddenly felt so alone. My head ached were I'd hit it, and I didn't know a single person in the room.

Summer Holiday noticed my head too.

"How did this happen?" she asked, gently touching my jaw, and tilting my head to get a better look at the knot on my forehead.

"Um, there was… there were a couple people?" I ventured, "I was pushed?"

Summer Holiday glanced up at my face and gave me a look.

"Tell me about them."

"They had a lot of bags… um, I think there were prescriptions? I could hear pill bottles rattling."

"What did they look like, the people who had the bottles?"

"Some of them looked… They looked weird." I hesitated, I didn't think it would be polite to say 'Monster capes' outright. But I'd only seen it used online the one time, and didn't know what else to call them.

Summer nodded, "I think I know who you're talking about."

"Grudge, Moonsmile, can you find Prince and ask him to step in for a word? Marionette too, if they hit the dispensary she'd need to be involved." Summer tossed over her shoulder. There was a note in her voice I would definitely call _sharp_.

There was a man and a woman. The man had a black bodysuit with three yellow Xs across the forehead, a larger one on his chest, and fingerless gloves. The woman slight and small, with a runner's build, running tights, and an armored vest that looked like Tinkertech. The man nodded and they both ambled off.

Summer turned back to me and gave me a meaningful, appraising glance. She knew exactly what had happened, it wasn't the first time- hazing, or whatever it had actually been. Lizard Prince, Inkling, Frog, Prowler, Quilt, Marionette. They were behind the disruption, and I was beginning to suspect that it wasn't something harmless that they'd done. Not harmless at all.

I didn't know what I would need to do to get this kind of response, but Marionette was in actual trouble.

"Are you all right, Auspice?" Summer Holiday asked, "You look a little pale."

"Uh, y-yeah. It's just… Um, I'm talking to an actual hero." I tried to smile, I felt giddy and crestfallen in turns.

Summer's mask moved, I think she smiled. Or, she tried to. Her eyes were too sad to really sell it. "First time?"

 _Someone was screaming and it was so confusing and- blood was on my fingers. How had that happened- I hadn't meant to-_

 _The smell of antiseptic and floor wax and copper._

"N-no." I whispered.

"Hey." Summer Holiday leaned in, hands on both my shoulders, "It's okay, kid, deep breaths."

I felt cold, I was shivering. I just wanted Mom and Emma, and Dad. And I wanted… I wanted… I was crying in front of a hero.

"Oh, kid." Summer sighed, "It's okay."

Summer Holiday gently led me back towards the security station and sat me down at one of the tables.

"You were scared, huh?"

I hadn't been- not when it happened. There hadn't been time to be afraid. But now, now I was shaking, I hadn't felt this unsafe since the blood, and the hospital. I'd cried myself into a stupor, unable to sleep, unable to stop the input as my power kept murmuring- voices in a crowd in my head, whispering things I didn't want to know.

Now? Now I was scared, and felt so small, and I didn't know anyone. One of the troopers slid a cup to me, and when I touched the cup-

 _Hot chocolate. He'd put a double packet in._

"T-thank… Thank you." I hiccupped.

The man was tall, freckled and dark haired. His nametag read 'D. Brown' and he gave me and Summer Holiday an awkward nod.

"Now, you're walking around, so I'm guessing that you'll live. Do we need to get that looked at?" She pointed, and I realized she meant my forehead.

I actually didn't know. But, this was a perfect opportunity to use my power for something actually useful. I pinged the cut on my head, rubbing one finger over the swelling.

 _Bruising, inflammation, superficial damage. Nonfatal._

"No, I'll be all right."

Summer nodded slowly. Right, I guess she'd know what my power was, she'd probably guessed I had used it. "I'm not surprised. Lizard has been a troublemaker since he got here. He was a villain- had a pled deal, insanity, when he got caught. Really sleazy plea deal." Summer explained, "He's been a thorn in my side ever since- and what's worse is he's roped some of the other patients in on it, and he's been getting bolder."

"We get cases like his every few years." She tapped her fingers on the table, "I wouldn't worry about Marionette, I'd be surprised if she gets less than three weeks in solitary. But if Lizard Prince goes bothering you again, you find me or security immediately, all right?"

"Yes ma'am."

She smiled under the mask. Yeah, you could definitely tell, it was the eyes.

I took a deep, steadying breath, "Do you know where Doctor Yamada is?

"Is she your therapist?" Summer asked.

I nodded, "I was supposed to have a session after breakfast."

Summer stood up, "She was down in the infirmary last I heard. I'd like to get that looked at anyway- come on, we'll find her."

...

We headed out, Summer and I, and went up.

"There was a short-circuit, I think, downstairs." Summer said, "That's where we keep our indiscriminate patients."

"Indiscriminate?"

"Mostly uncontrolled powers- powers that don't have off switches." Summer replied. We turned a corner and reached a security checkpoint, the guard saluted. But instead of continuing on to the administrative section, she stepped to a door labeled 'Security Access'. The door that required a keycard, on the other side linoleum gave way to bare concrete. She kept walking briskly, her prosthetic marking brisk clinks every other step, I followed on her heels.

"You're not allowed in here without security escort, understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

The hallway was straight and uninterrupted, illuminated by lightbulbs housed in protective steel cages. Pipes and bundles of wires were strung up close to the ceiling. This was probably some kind of utility access. The air was cool and just slightly moist.

"Auspice?" Summer said in the silence.

"Yes ma'am?"

"I know this… it's probably not the kind of introduction you expected." Summer said, looking back at me, "Um… It's okay to be scared, you know?"

"Okay."

"Right." She nodded, "Just don't be afraid to be afraid. Doc Yamada is one of the best therapists we have, let her help."

We turned, kept moving, at the end of the hall Summer opened another door. We exited back out into a white-tiled hall and florescent lighting. This door was set beside another security checkpoint, this one with two guards in the booth. Summer passed through without a pause and I hesitated a moment before I followed her through the gate. The hall ended in a small foyer with a set of double doors and a line of benches. "Right. This is the infirmary. We still have three patients that can't be returned to their rooms. Had a couple close calls. Last I saw, Yamada was down here, let's see if she still is."

"She's all right, though?"

"Oh, of course. She's fine."

Summer pushed open the swinging doors, inside there was blue carpet and a small nursing desk. There was a woman in green scrubs at the desk- medium build with mousy brown hair gathered in a bun. She looked up as Summer strode across the lobby.

"Is Doctor Jessica Yamada still down here?"

The nurse blinked. "Oh, yes."

"Is she free?"

"She ought to be, in a moment. Room ten."

Summer nodded and turned down the left hand hallway, and I had to hurry to keep up. The doors passed, one on each side, nine of them before Summer stopped on a dime and rapped briskly on the door.

"Coming!" I heard from inside.

Summer nodded, "And that's her. I kind of need to talk to her too, you don't mind, right kid?"

I shook my head. Doctor Yamada was out a moment later.

She looked a little disheveled- a couple hairs had escaped the tight bun she always wore, waving with the motion of her head as she closed the door behind her. I thought I detected a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead, and there was a stressed tightness in the corners of her eyes and her thinned lips. She carried a briefcase.

"Summer," she said, and then with surprise, "Taylor! What…"

"Found her in the middle of the mess," Summer said, "I needed to have a word and thought she'd need a quick talk with you, after."

"What- oh. Oh, of course. She frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Your appointment. Oh, Taylor, I apologize."

"Sure. I-I mean, it's okay." I stammered, distracted. My power was picking up a lot off her.

 _First and second fingers on her left hand bandaged lightly, the skin on the back of the same hand lacks all the fine hairs, singed off, her jacket and blouse were borrowed._

She wasn't in distress, and didn't give me a lot of tells to work with, but I suspected she had been in danger.

"Thank you, Taylor." Doctor Yamada smiled.

Summer nodded, "Just a moment, this'll be quick."

I sat on one of the chairs lining the hall as Summer and Yamada walked off a few yards, "What is this about, Summer?"

The hallway was empty, even with their voices lowered I could listen in.

"Lizard Prince… talked to her, but…"

I hesitated.

I didn't… I wasn't comfortable with eavesdropping on my therapist. I really, really wasn't comfortable eavesdropping on my therapist and a hero. But that niggling sense of unease was back, and my forehead throbbed. My filters peeled back and I pinged Summer and Yamada, mentally urging my power to tell me what they were saying.

Experiencing it was a little strange, like an echo, but it moved faster, filling in what I had missed and what was being said now at the same time.

It wasn't perfect, I still lost words, but the intent was what was important- filling in what was missing. Doctor Yamada was clearer, at first. I was more familiar to her and my power had more data to draw on, a model to work with; but even as I listened, Summer was growing clearer.

 _"Just warning you, Lizard Prince was probably involved in the breakout." Summer said, "Auspice ran into him and his clique. I talked to her, but… I believe they raided the dispensary, I don't know if they did anything more than."_

 _Doctor Yamada gently massaged her forehead._

 _"My god, is she all right?"_

 _"Yeah, she's a brave kid. I want to take her to Doctor Lafayette after you're done though, since we're here anyway."_

 _Doctor Yamada nodded, "I don't have any objections."_

 _"Thank you." Summer said, "I won't keep you any longer; go ahead, Doctor. I'll be talking to Chief Stevens if you need me."_

I stopped leaning on my power- and felt a little guilty and foolish. And also strangely exhilarated, Summer Holiday thought I was brave. A real hero thought I was brave.

Both of them walked back to me where I sat, trying very hard to not look guilty. I think Summer might have guessed, though. Something in her smile…

"All right, she's all yours, Yamada. See you, Auspice. Stay chill, all right?" Summer said, and strode off down the hall, her prosthetic marching a brisk beat to mark her passing.

"Could you let the front desk know that I'll be using room seven?" Doctor Yamada said, watching her go, "Well then, Taylor, shall we?"

We commandeered one of the Infirmary rooms, and two of the chairs. After sitting Doctor Yamada fidgeted and pulled a sheaf of papers from her briefcase. A notepad. She was trying to organize her thoughts, I realized, "Taylor, before we begin, I'd like to apologize. That should have never happened. I… can think of a few worse ways to begin your integration to the patient population, but not many."

Meeting with my therapist in a hospital room hadn't been something I'd wanted to do today, but I could hardly complain. What would have been worse? I tried to imagine that. Maybe the hallways filled with smoke and fire and flooded with sewage from a broken mainline. I smiled, "It could have been worse." I agreed.

"It was pandemonium down here all morning. Did they manage to get you relocated in all that excitement, at least?" she asked.

All morning? "Oh. Yes. Um. Is there a way I could get a computer in my room? I forgot to ask Doctor Jenkins."

"I'll see what I can do. We don't let most patients, but your situation is a little different, so we might be able to make allowances."

I fidgeted, "Is that… does that happen a lot?"

"What happened this morning?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah."

Doctor Yamada sighed, "More often then I'd like…" She muttered, then took a deep breath, "Taylor, are you familiar with Baumann Parahuman Containment Center?"

"Um, I… y-yes."

Some parahumans were dangerous, even more than the rest. Uncontrollable. For some people, getting powers was a turning point in their lives. A new perspective. Then there were ones that had already gone bad, the ones that got worse. The Baumann Parahuman Containment Center was where they sent the worst of the worst, the ones that went too far but were too powerful to put down, the ones that a regular prison couldn't hold. The Birdcage was the most secure prison on earth, designed, built, and managed by the most powerful Tinker on earth. No one had ever escaped.

I had looked it up not long after… after the hospital.

"Alchemilla's faculty model was considered for use as an alternative, before Baumann was proposed," Doctor Yamada explained, "We have a lot of specialized containment facilities left over from that time. And we get some of the more dangerous, and uncontrollable patients as a result."

I nodded slowly, and Doctor Yamada smiled, "I understand that you've made some friends."

I didn't have many friends; besides Emma, I'd always been too shy; I shrugged.

"I've worked with Glassboom and Sadboy for some time, I'm glad you seem to have hit it off. But I was a little surprised you reached out to Burnscar." She said.

I didn't know if I'd call Heather, Nick, or Mimi friends- I hadn't even met Sveta in person. "Mimi." I muttered, and regretted it when Yamada's eyebrows rose, "She… uh… she doesn't like that name. Burnscar."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." Yamada said, "I haven't worked with her before." She made a note on her pad, "She prefers Mimi?"

"Yeah." I frowned, "How did you know I talked to her?"

"The orderly working with her was very impressed," Doctor Yamada said.

"Was Mimi really going to burn him?" I asked.

Doctor Yamada was quiet for a moment, I could tell she was looking for a delicate way to phrase it, "Very likely." I stared at the floor and felt a little empty inside. She'd been nice, not mean, and she'd been so lonely.

"Taylor, his name is Wayland Lars, and you probably saved his life." Doctor Yamada said, "I want you to understand that." One life saved… four still taken. I think Doctor Yamada could sense my mood, we sat in silence for a while.

"Taylor?" she asked, "I know you haven't been ready to talk about it… But if you ever want to talk about what happened in Brockton General, I am here."

I shrank in on myself. But…

No. No, I couldn't put it off, or, I needed to not put it off now. I thought I'd be able to do it. Maybe. But if I lost my nerve now, I might not get it back.

"I woke up, after… after I killed… after that. I didn't know what happened and I- I was on painkillers, I think. Maybe. I woke up and all I wanted to do was to see Mom. There were wires and stuff stuck to me and I pulled them out, and a nurse came…"

I remembered his face, what he looked like, and remembered his name; Randel Greene, though I hadn't found out until after.

He'd been young, twenty, I think. Black hair and a pleasant face. He was wearing blue scrubs with a funny Macroburst logo print. He was into capes too.

He'd been concerned and tried to get me to go back to me room, then he'd grabbed my shoulder. My power told me that he was trying to stop me. I-I just knew that I wanted to leave, and he was going to stop me. And then- and then I'd know he had his keys in his pocket, and I'd grabbed them and jabbed them at his eyes. And then he tried to cover his eyes, and I jabbed them into his throat.

"…I didn't realize what I'd done until- until- until there was blood everywhere. I'd just walked through the door, everyone was screaming. I…" Doctor Yamada had her arms around my shoulders, hugging me. I was crying, and I shaking.

"Shh, Taylor." She said, "Taylor. That was not your fault."

I took a hiccupping breath, "Hospital security showed up, and I hurt a couple, broke one's arm, until they called for heroes. I think Mom, Mom stopped me. If she- if she didn't…"

"Taylor, shh."

Doctor Yamada stayed with me like that until I got my breathing under control, rubbing my back in gentle circles. She wasn't Mom, and she wasn't Emma, but I felt better, I felt safe.

Doctor Yamada released me and looked me in the eye, "Taylor, I am proud of you."

I hiccupped, blinking through the tears, and Yamada offered me one of those little packs of wrapped tissues. "Taylor, do you understand me? I am very proud of you. That was difficult, and that was painful, but you did it anyway. That was very brave, you have made incredible progress."

I didn't trust my voice so I just nodded and blew my nose.

"You're doing wonderfully Taylor; I want you to understand that. Whatever else you take away from this meeting, I want you to understand that."

I took my glasses off and wiped them. I mustered a limp smile for her.

"… I think that's about all for today Taylor," Doctor Yamada gave my shoulder a quick squeeze. "What do you say we stop by the nursing station and see if someone can take a look at your forehead?"

...

Sessions with Doctor Yamada always left me feeling a little better, a little less like the world was eating away at my fingers and toes. And after the crying I'd done with Summer and Doctor Yamada I… I felt better. Lighter. Empty, but in a good way. I'd let the sad and fear out and felt cleaner for it.

Doctor Yamada walked me back to the residential wing herself. I asked about getting some time in the computer lab and she showed me how to sign on for a timeslot.

"Doc! Doc Yamada!"

That was Heather, with Nick trailing gamely in her wake.

"Hello, Glassboom." Doctor Yamada said.

"What happened this time?" Heather asked, grinning outrageously, "Who got out?"

She was vibrating with energy, bouncing on her feet; and it occurred to me that she wanted a fight. Maybe it was because she was a hero, and was used to that being an outlet for energy. I certainly didn't, all that crying had tired me out.

"A few patients in special containment, I really can't say more than that." Doctor Yamada said firmly, but also like she was sure someone would tell Heather anyway.

"Oh, you're no fun Doc Yam." Heather pouted.

Doctor Yamada gave me a pat on the shoulder, "I need to go, Taylor, keep them out of trouble?"

There was something in that. Something that pinged, Yamada was only half joking. I gave her a quizzical look, and she returned me a wink. Another pat and she turned, leaving me with Heather and Nick.

Hmm.

"So."

I met Heather's level gaze, "What?"

"Come on, you were outside the wing, you've gotta know something." She said, "I know you do."

We walked back toward the computer lab, and I evaded, "Do you know a patient called Lizard Prince?"

Heather narrowed her eyes. "Why? Was he involved?" She… wanted to fight him. She was looking for an excuse. Her ego was tied to her cape identity, and she looked for ways to test her power against others. In a way that included me, in teasing out information from me.

Nick was different, his power was deleterious, he hated to use it. "Lizard Prince?" Nick said, "He's an asshole."

Heather shrugged, "A bunch of the monster capes latched onto him."

Yeah… yeah I think he was involved." I hummed.

Heather grinned, and Nick just looked resigned, "How? How?"

"Stole some stuff."

Heather grinned, it was _blinding_ , "Hell yes!" She vibrated in place, "He piss you off? We gonna fuck him up?"

I shook my head, "I'm just going to look him up."

Heather looked bewildered, "Look him up?" she glanced at Nick, then at the placard for the Computer Lab. "You're going to the library?"

Oh, I was going to look them up. I was going to look everyone up.


	5. Cygnet 1-5

**{Name for a young swan.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I had a feeling Heather didn't use the computer lab for much, she made it as far as the door before she started complaining- bouncing on her feet and fidgeting- she was easily distracted.

We had the room to ourselves, which was a relief. I half expected to see the crazy guy from before- and just thinking like that sounded… hypocritical. But I was glad all the same. I waved to the nurse on duty at the corner desk. The room was staffed now, I immediately felt better seeing actual staff on duty.

I sat at one of the stations and logged in, and a prompt asked me if I wanted to customize my account. I decided to leave that off for now.

I checked for my classes first, all my files had transferred. I didn't have any current assignments; I'd finished them all last night.

"Do you guys have classes too?"

"I do," Nick mumbled, Heather blew her hair out of her face with a sour glower.

"Doctor Morgan keeps trying to get me to do some," she groused.

"It's free, you should try and get a degree or something."

But Heather just groaned.

I opened the browser, opened my e-mail and then…

Mom. Emma. I took a deep breath, I had an hour and a half to do this.

 _To: JoinedinDeluge , LovelyGinger_

 _From: GestatingTeneral_

 _Subject: Mom and Emma_

I swallowed and wiped my hands on my pants, they were sweating. Why was I so nervous all of a sudden?

 _'_ _Dear Mom and Emma_

 _Alchemilla is not what I expected.'_

That was a little strange to say. I don't know what I had expected, but now that I'd had a chance to meet some of the other patients, I knew that it hadn't been anything close. This was not it. I thought about it a moment, then kept typing. It was true anyway.

 _'_ _I'm out of observation, which means they don't think I'm dangerous anymore, I think.'_

I deleted that part immediately, all parahumans were dangerous, right? And there was Doctor Yamada's veiled warning, and Summer Holiday's… I was out, but it was still dangerous. And they didn't need to know about any of that.

 _'_ _The staff has been very kind and supportive, and I've made some friends'_

 _'_ _There are a lot of parahumans here, I never imagined there would be so many. I even got to meet a hero today. She was a Protectorate hero posted at Alchemilla, and not one of the patients. That's right, there are actual heroes here to keep us all safe.'_

I couldn't name Summer Holiday. There were rules to email correspondence. The names and cape identities of all the patients were automatically censored, and Dragon had an AI dedicated to inspecting outgoing email.

 _'_ _Doctor Selmy wants me to try really working on myself, wanted me to make myself a project I'm invested in. Getting out, getting better. Doctor Yamada wants me to keep making friends.'_

I didn't think the doctors' names would be an issue… I'd only been told about parahuman etiquette. Hmm.

I got up and walked to the nurse desk at the back of the room to ask. On my way back I paused, there was a flurry of movement in the booths, a brief scuffle. Sure enough, Heather and Nick were back at their stations, and my email was still open. But the screensaver had not kicked in.

I waffled uncertainly for a moment. I really didn't appreciate them looking over my shoulder, even if I wasn't there at the time. And- and I didn't want to have a confrontation right now.

But… but Doctor Selmy wanted me to be brave. And I'd promised Emma I wouldn't let everyone walk all over me. And… if I just let this happen it'd happen again, right?

I sighed. And turned, opening my mouth, but Heather and Nick were already looking at me, and Heather covered her face in her hands.

"Not a word." Heather lowered her hands and glared at Nick.

Nick was unimpressed and unphased, which kind of surprised me, "I told you she'd know."

"Argh!" Heather threw her hands in the air.

"Now apologize." Nick prompted. And I had to blink because, wow, that was a change. Where was this coming from?

"Um," I said, "Why were you reading my letter?" I wished my voice was stronger.

Heather just shrugged one shoulder, and looked churlish. Nick was the one to say something, "Please don't hold it against her."

"Oh shut up, Nick," Heather said. "I don't need someone saying sorry for me."

She wasn't sorry, but…

I flexed my power.

She was bored, her medication interacted uncomfortably with her power. Her power's mentality? She was profoundly bored, a little scared I'd hold a grudge, and lonely.

Lonely? I blinked, and tamped down on my power again. Heather stared back.

"Who's Emma?" She asked. It sounded a little like a demand.

I bit my lip, "Um. My best friend." I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands, clasping and unclasping them, rubbing my arms, I fidgeted, "We've known each other since… well, I guess since I can remember." I smiled weakly. Emma was always in my corner; she was there right now.

"No dad?" Heather asked.

I frowned, "No, he… he died almost two years ago."

Heather nodded, looking down at her feet. I glanced at Nick, he was looking away, studying the carpet, and I realized something. "Do you guys have family, uh, outside?

Heather stared back at me, then just stood up and walked out.

Nick met my eyes and breathed a quick apology before he followed her, leaving me alone in the library.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I finished my letter, making a point of telling them how much I was looking forward to them visiting, and sent it. Then I just… I sat staring at the screen, thinking about that. Heather, I guessed she didn't have any family. Or they weren't keeping in touch with her. Mimi didn't have anyone either, I think.

Sveta didn't have any family.

I was starting to detect a pattern, and… I felt grateful for Mom and Emma. But also sad. I had someone outside, waiting for me and rooting for me.

Who did Heather have? Or Nick, or Mimi, or Sveta?

I shook myself, and glanced at the clock. I still had about a half hour left on my session, and I was going to use it. I opened Parahumans Online, it was a little strange, looking at it now that I was a parahuman. I could look at this and ask where I fit in. That was… weird.

There was a featured article on the Triumvirate on the front page- I smiled and checked out the latest. It featured Alexandria, unfolded to her full glory like some kind of exotic tropical flower, or maybe a sea anemone. Eidolon floated alongside her, multicolored aura glowing brightly, and above them, serene, floated Hero. His tech arrayed in a halo orbiting his head. The symbolism was a little heavy handed, but I couldn't argue with the impact.

Alexandria and Eidolon and Hero. The big three. They had been four once- Legend among them, before his death.

Alexandria, nearly indestructible, with her shifting body capable of taking so many shapes. Eidolon, powers were malleable in his hands, taking any shape in himself and others.

And Hero, Hero was one of the very first heroes, that was the only way he got away with such an iconic name like that. Maybe the first Tinker. He was the greatest Tinker in the world, certainly the strongest in the USA. The strongest in North America with the possible exception of Dragon, the strongest cape in Canada.

The article was primarily about ongoing fighting to contain Eagleton Tennessee. Noting patterns of the Machine Army continuing to skirmish along the perimeter of the town, and there was talk of increasing the Protectorate garrison. Calls for a sterilizing action by Hero was quieting, the official word being that the threat was being downgraded to A-class. So long as they were contained. Detractors of the policy speculated that it was actually because the PRT wanted a 'harvestable' source of tinkertech.

I scrolled back to the big banner spread at the top of the page.

When I was younger, I'd dreamed of becoming a cape like Alexandria- strong and beautiful and respected, I'd protect the innocent and uphold justice. Emma'd never been into superheroes the same way, but always laughed and went along with it, the two of us playing at grand heroics, with sheets tied over our shoulders, jumping from the top of her bunkbed, pretending to fly. And since coming to Alchemilla, I'd learned that Sveta looked up to her too- their powers were similar.

For Sveta, Alexandria represented a ray of hope, that she'd be able to gain control of her powers one day.

I impulsively clicked the regional news stub, looking up Brockton. The gangs had been quiet when I left, but it looked like there had been some sort of upheaval in the past month. I kept reading.

E88 was basically as it had been, with Allfather, Kaiser, and Iron Rain's helmets dominating the organization tab, and representing neo-Nazi's everywhere. ABB still had Lung, and Butcher hadn't reincarnated yet. But when I looked up the Marche things got interesting. Marquis, never defeated in battle with any of the gangs or the Protectorate, had acquired two more henchmen- Grue and Browbeat. Both of them were big, solidly-built guys; next to them, the Marquis looked deceptively nonthreatening, considering he was arguably the most dangerous parahuman in Brockton Bay. No names yet, though.

More interesting was the description of the fights Marquis had won so recently. Apparently, a new gang had established itself, calling themselves the Fae, and allied with the Marche. It was led by a woman who called herself Ingénue- a onetime independent hero notable for driving three heroes insane. They had gone to the Birdcage before anyone caught on, and she had gone on the run. I guess this was her surfacing.

There was a lot of speculation on her bio that went nowhere, lots of back and forth. Master awareness had skyrocketed following the Simurgh's emergence, and Ingenue had been exposed just eight months later, at it's height. But solid facts, particularly following her going to ground, were surprisingly short in supply. One blurry photograph was posted, showing her alongside what looked like a young woman or girl with light brown or blond hair. It wasn't clear if this was another parahuman or not, but Ingénue had always gone after men…

My gut twisted, I had powers, but instead of stopping villains, instead of fighting crime, I was here. Doing nothing. I shook myself- I was getting distracted, and I was on a time limit.

"Okay, okay…" Read now, speculate later. First on my list was Lizard Prince. I typed his name into the search bar.

He was a villain, as I'd been told, originally based out of Virginia; his rap sheet included a history of breaking and entering, and assault. Violent crimes. Four altercations with the Protectorate and Wards.

He was a grab-bag cape with minor shape-shifter powers, the ability to stretch and contort his limbs. He could also stick to and walk up walls, possessed a minor power to project a sticky substance that entrapped opponents, and a danger sense. His name, however, came from his ability to regenerate by 'shedding his skin'.

Because of this ability, he could sustain injuries that would be permanent for another cape, could break bones and sacrifice limbs and regrow them rapidly, like a lizard sacrificing its tail. Hence the name.

Of course, seeing it in action…

I swallowed back nausea after opening the attached video. "Oh god," I gasped. I was really glad that I didn't have that power, that was disgusting. I'd go through so many clothes…

As Summer Holiday had said, he'd been slated for the Birdcage. His arrest had followed a complicated incident that outed a Ward. He'd pled insanity, now he was here in Alchemilla.

I looked up the others in his gang. The ones he had named. What had he called them? Inkling, Frog, Prowler, Quilt, Marionette.

I scrolled through some mugshots. Inkling, the girl with tentacles for hair, had been involved in some violent crime. But there was some confusion in the specifics. Two altercations with gangs in New York and Maine, public enough that she had almost been branded a solo vigilante.

It helped that she had a versatile power, one of those odd powers that didn't really fall into a category of itself. She could project a corrosive substance onto surfaces, which then functioned as a rapid means of transit for her- like super speed, or maybe teleporting.

I was a little envious. All I had was straight-up Thinker powers. That denoted powers that granted additional senses or information, and was usually hard to use directly in stopping crime. She had a power that gave her a lot of options, she could do so much, all I had was… was, this sense of things I didn't want to know.

Don't think about that. Negative spiral. What about the rest?

Frog had been picked up somewhere in Maine as well… Prowler had some kind of mental impairment that left him unable to understand spoken language… Quilt had been involved in human trafficking, and not voluntarily… Marionette didn't have an article at all.

Except for Lizard Prince, the only thing they had in common was they were all monster capes, capes without identities or memories before their powers. It was a phenomenon I had read about, one with a lot of theories attached but no concrete conclusion.

It struck me as a little odd, when I thought about it. Lizard Prince hadn't been known to work with anyone else prior to his capture, but I wondered. It seemed a little out of character for him to suddenly develop a charismatic streak… what had changed that? I had no idea where Marionette fit into that either. Why no article?

I shook my head and stared at the search bar for a moment, the next name was obvious. Her power, it turned out, was close to what I had perceived. And about as different from Lizard Prince as powers got.

Summer Holiday was a longtime member of the Protectorate, though never one with a spotlight on her. She'd lost her leg fighting in the First Emergence.

I paused, how old did that make her? She didn't look much older than her late twenties- no, no, questions later.

She used the prosthesis instead of getting it healed on basis of personal preference. There wasn't much more on her, which was strange, since she had the bearing and looks for front page PR. And her powers only played to that… And they were like fireworks, incredible fireworks. She could charge up balls and beams of energy and kinetic force and release them, tailoring the effect as she desired. It was like looking at the grand finale of a Fourth of July display in a major city. And there were videos. A lot of videos. Apparently she did displays on occasion.

There was some speculation that she had a broader power, that it lay more along the lines of general energy manipulation- she was on record for producing fire, or ice as part of their effects, or even more exotic applications.

But I was running out of time, I'd look at them later. I drummed my fingers on the desk; next, next was Mimi.

Burnscar brought up a stub article, she had been involved in a fire at a high school. There wasn't much else. I guessed she'd been caught in the aftermath of her trigger, never made the transition to hero or villain. That made sense.

What was the name of Mimi's friend? Labyrinth? I entered that, and came up with a deceased heroine from California, and a Tinker in Europe that specialized in camouflage, a male Tinker. Neither of those, so maybe she'd never debuted?

My session was over, though. I logged off and stood up. What to do now? It was still a while until Lunch, I didn't have anything else scheduled until the afternoon. I could- Heather. I'd find Heather and see if I could smooth over whatever I had said.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The exercise room had half a dozen patients working on the machines or jogging on the treadmill. A couple faces I even recognized from my group yesterday. Heather was not among them.

I frowned, and pushed on the connection, the familiarity, looking for a direction.

It was inexact- a wave of a hand and a general sense of 'that way' like a compass needle wandering in and arc. I followed it through the machines to the gymnasium, where I found her tossing a basketball into the hoop.

My throat tightened up a bit. I wasn't good at this. I hardly knew Heather. Hardly knew anyone here.

But I could do this. I could. Doctor Yamada was here, and Doctor Selmy. And Mom, Mom had always told me, when I was at my most withdrawn, that I could melt anyone's heart if I tried. I thought about Emma, how she'd approach this. But I was never good at that- going up to people all smiles, always knowing what to say. Emma was as at ease in social settings as I was awkward.

I couldn't do that. But I could try.

"Um. Can I play?"

Heather missed and the ball bounced off the rim, back towards me. I could see the direction, the path it would follow, in my mind's eye. The angle was illuminated- like the security cams. I stepped forward and caught it, right after it rebounded. It was so… simple. I hardly had to think about it.

"Yeah, sure."

I looked up, Heather was standing with hands on hips, expectant. She… Well, she didn't look upset.

Deep breaths, I can do this. I hesitated and then kicked off my slippers, and peeled off my socks.

"Did you play a lot before…. This?" I asked.

"Yeah." Heather said.

I tossed the ball back to her, and she turned, shooting it into the hoop. She caught it on the way down and glanced at me. "Two-zero, are you just going to give them to me?"

I blinked, and took a step forward. Heather started dribbling, took the ball out to the middle of the court and I took a defensive position in front of the basket. Heather danced back and forth a little, got fancy with the dribbling, crossing back and forth in between her legs. Back and forth, despite her bare feet.

She suddenly darted forward, juked to the right and went left, then shot for the basket. My feeble attempt to block her went wide and I might as well as been standing still for all the good it did.

"Come on!" Heather snapped, catching the ball and dribbling back to mid court.

The next time she moved forward I darted in, aiming a slap to knock the ball away. Heather spun away, lined up another shot and made it too.

I was already breathing hard. I'd had exercise periods while in quarantine, under the vigilant eye of orderlies each day. But there was a difference between a hundred lunges and crunches in the recreation yard, and maybe some pushups when I was feeling especially restless late at night. Anything to keep moving.

It was another to get my heartrate up in honest. It didn't take long before I was panting, and my hair was slicked to my forehead.

Heather kept going for baskets, and I kept trying to keep up with her, until my sides were stitching and I felt like I was about to explode. It was a little strange, it felt good. Really good. My power sketched her actions in the air as we played. By her fifth basket, I could tell when she was bluffing, when she was feinting, and when she was going for a shot- even if I couldn't stop her.

I think I was putting up a better showing too, by the end, Heather had a faint sheen of sweat and was breathing a little harder. Which I might have been more proud of if I wasn't dying on my feet at the time.

"Okay," She said, after I think her fifteenth basket. Or maybe it was more. I kind of lost count at some point.

"Stop, you're gonna kill yourself. Or have a stroke, or something."

I walked to the benches set against the gymnasium walls on legs like wet noodles and collapsed into one. Heather followed, and sat beside me, but she waited until I was finished catching my breath before she started talking.

"I wanted to be in the NBA, you know?" she said. "I was captain of the Northwood West Tigers, best team in Virginia. I had scholarships and everything."

She scuffed her feet on the gymnasium floor. "Turns out I got something called, 'osteogenesis imperfecta'." She pronounced it carefully, like she'd tried before and not gotten it right. A lot.

She leaned her arms on her knees, and there was a pause, "That, uh, means I have really soft bones."

I blinked at her, "Is that when you got powers?"

"A couple weeks later." She said, pulling on leg up to her chest, we were quiet for a few minutes. "Kinda funny… my power compensates for it, some, but…" She shook her head. "What are you doing over here, anyway? You aren't a sports type. You're a bookworm type."

"I… I wanted to say sorry, if I said anything-"

"Shit, did you do all that just to say sorry?" Heather laughed. I laughed a little too, and felt a knot loosen in my chest.

"What were you looking up anyway?" she asked.

"A bunch of the other patients." I said, "I… uh, I'm kind of a cape geek."

"Really?" Heather perked up, "You look me up?"

"Sorry, I ran out of time." I frowned, "Actually, I have a couple questions, do you know anything about Lizard Prince?"

Heather leaned back, "LP? He talks shit with the headshrinkers a lot, likes to pick fights. Don't really talk with him or his crew. Some of the shit he pulls is fun though." She grinned.

I bit my lip.

"What about…" I reached a bit, it felt like prying. "Labyrinth?"

Heather screwed her face up in a sour grimace, "Labyrinth? She's this, uh, like she's autistic? She doesn't really control her powers. Some kind of really strong effect over an area, turns places into wonderlands. It's happened a couple times. There's a procedure for it." That was worrying. Alchemilla had proven to not be anything like what I'd expected, it was more dangerous and more eerie. "The doctors were talking about it a couple weeks ago." She shrugged.

"Mimi said she was her best friend." I said slowly.

Heather shrugged, "I've never seen her, but I don't hang out with Burnscar, every time she burns someone she has to get moved, so she kind of moves a lot..."

I looked down at my toes, "Nowhere to put down roots, not even here." I muttered.

Heather shook her head, "I dunno." She held out her hand, "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

I took her hand, "We're 'cool' right?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah, we're cool."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I didn't meet Labyrinth until the next week.


	6. Cygnet 1-6

Cygnet 1.6

{Name for a young swan.}

I finished the day out without any further incident, and at night returned to my room in time for curfew. After the excitement of the rest of the day, it almost felt like a letdown.

I stood, looking at it from the doorway. It seemed so empty, I thought maybe it'd feel different once I had my own room.

The absence of the computer was an aching void, but I did still have my books… I hoped Sveta was going to be okay. She didn't have many opportunities to talk to people, though she did mention Dragon video chatted with her fairly often.

I lay down on the bed and started to read.

The clock changed, time moving like molasses. I wasn't sure why I'd thought it'd be different… but I found myself thinking that it was supposed to. I'd been thinking that a lot lately, it seemed. After a few hours, I stood, and started pacing. I had too much energy, and there wasn't enough to hold my attention.

I paced for about twenty minutes and lay down again, cycled through Oliver Twist, my notebooks, and my art pads. Maybe I'd try coming up with a costume again for when I got out?

I ended up sketching a web detailing the other patients, and the doctors I had met, their relation to each other.

The hours ground on at a snail's pace, I definitely needed a computer.

...

I might have held my breath the first time I pushed the door open. I don't know why, or what I expected would happen if I wasn't allowed out. An alarm or something? It'd probably just… not open…or something.

But it did open, and I felt a little sheepish stepping out into the empty hall. Once out, I wondered what I'd do; curfew was over at seven, I had an hour free until breakfast and nothing to fill the time. But I steeled my nerves and lifted my head. I'd just have to find something. I could do that.

I wandered through the hall. The exercise room was occupied, a pair of patients… Uh, that was Lethe and… Fusor. They were both running on the treadmills, side by side in sweats. A couple orderlies loitered by the wall.

I needed to get some sweats… I'd ask Doctor Yamada about that. I glanced at my socks and slippers- some sneakers too.

I didn't really have anything to exercise in, but I wandered through the machines, taking a closer look. I experimentally tried the barbell machine. I could barely manage a curl at twenty five pounds. It was kind of sad.

I gave Lethe a wave and she smiled back at me, but I kept one eye on her bird-thing. It sat perched on one of the shoulder machines, snapping its beak.

My power resonated with a constant low-key thrum of danger from it. Lethe's control was not constant- I had a suspicion that it was tied to giving her familiar commands. When it a not actively involved in a task it would act on instinct, and was very territorial. But as long as I kept my distance I'd be fine. Lethe caught my hesitance and her smile faded a little.

"Good morning Taylor!" It was a little forced.

"Morning Lethe." I replied, trying to put a little extra warmth into my reply. She'd tried very hard to make me feel welcomed in my first group meeting, and was a hero through and through. As Falconer she had shown up for two Endbringer fights before her familiar had proven too dangerous to allow in public. "Do you and Fusor always run together?"

Fusor glanced my way, but said nothing, and continued his steady jog.

"Well, for a while." Lethe said, a little breathlessly. She was setting a brisk pace, her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was slicked to her forehead.

Lethe herself was a slightly stocky woman, with freckles and curly brown hair. Perhaps in contrast to her sharp and angular familiar.

Fusor just grunted, concentrating with singular intensity on the treadmill's heartrate readout. He had yet to say a single word to me, and didn't say much to anyone else either.

Someone else entered, Cidersong- Benny. His gangly limbs at odds with the sweat suit. In clashing turquoise and bright red. I gave it a dubious look, was he colorblind?

His smile was bright, however, and the moment he saw me, he bounded over.

"Good morning!" He crowed.

Disorientation, distance. Ability to impede.

"Morning Benny," I said, "You working out too?"

"Indeed!" He thumped his chest dramatically, "One day I will be a renowned hero, hailed worldwide for my daring exploits! If I am to do so, I will need to exert myself most strenuously! The Protectorate doesn't let just anyone in!"

"Really?" Really. In fact, he launched into a detailed explanation for his training regimen and his career plans. They featured a line of action figures with themed variants of his costume in eye-searing shades.

I smiled, he was just… such a kid. All that honest, earnest, endless enthusiasm. I was reasonably certain that he got all of it from watching television, but he truly believed in the idea of being a hero and didn't know how to speak in anything but exclamation points.

I sat on one of the weight benches and watched as he attempted to use the other machines. I felt a little better about my showing, he struggled almost as much as I did. I guess he wasn't a Brute.

Lethe and Fusor left, I waved to them as they did and Lethe waved back. Fusor's sour scowl didn't change at all.

One of the orderlies came by, distributing water bottles and towels and washing down the machines. A sturdy, broad-shouldered man with dark skin- I had to double take, it was the orderly from the cafeteria who had been talking to Mimi, trying to calm her down. His nametag read Lars, and after he gave Benny his water bottle, he recognized me too.

I waved, "Hi."

He smiled broadly, "Good morning! Not exercising today?"

"I don't have any sweats. Or shoes," I said.

"Oh. I can get you set up if you want- exercise uniforms are available for all patients." He look out a notepad, "I'll ask, see what we have, okay? Might be able to set you up today."

I… really appreciated that. I'd enjoyed playing against Heather, and it'd be something to fill the hours with. "Thank you." I scuffed my slippered feet on the rubber mats and stared at the floor.

"I ougtta thank you," Lars replied, "You helping calm Burnscar down really saved me back there."

"You can call me Taylor." I smiled, then frowned, "And… she doesn't like that name."

Lars shrugged broad shoulders, "The staff isn't allowed to use private names for the patients in public. Protection of identity. There's a couple of others that don't like what they're called, but won't pick something else." His face was grave.

I chewed on that for a minute, and watched Benny struggle with the lateral lift machine. Well, I suppose it made sense, there were villains here, and some of the heroes might go back to active hero work after they were discharged.

I was lost in thought, as Benny wrestled with the weights and talked to himself.

But…

"She really hates it." I muttered, pulling in a little. I hugged a knee to my chest. I remembered how Mimi had fluctuated between tears and rage. She hadn't chosen that name for herself.

What did she associate it with? She haden't had time to build a career prior to being implies that Burnscar was an appellation the Asylum staff came up with. Which is pretty fucked up, considering that it refers to her self-mutilation and her mental illness. She can't be burned because of her powers, so her cigarette marks had to be pre-trigger.

"That's what we gotta do."

I nodded and stood up. It was almost breakfast time and I didn't feel like watching Benny wrestle with the machines any longer. I just wanted to… move. Move and think.

On the threshold Lars' voice stopped me, "Hey, some of the docs hate it too."

I glanced back at him. He was smiling a little lopsidedly, and sadly. I tried to smile back, and left.

...

"I've never really known what to do with blank paper." Nick confessed, as he stared at a lonely circle on his page. His pen wavered idly, and I sympathized.

"I know," I said, "I always hate it- 'draw whatever you want' and nothing comes." I had a squiggly, meandering line that I was trying to shoehorn into something, anything in my head. I tried rotating my humble canvas, looking at it from a fresh angle. Maybe I'd switch over to watercolors.

Breakfast was followed by something Doctor Yamada had suggested I try- a 'creative therapy workshop', which was like arts and crafts in middle school.

No, wait, it was exactly like being back in school.

The workshop was set up in a room with ceramic tile floors and one full wall of locked cabinets. There were two counters with that black resin stuff you saw in chemistry class. Probably to simplify cleaning.

There was paints and pencils, mostly, but nurse Stevens mentioned there were potter's wheels and clay, woodcrafts, even Legos- by the bucketful. They had to be kept in designated public areas and times, however, since some patients (mostly Tinkers) would take the materials and hoard them.

The supervising nurse stressed that we were not allowed to take anything out of the room, and did this enough that I didn't even wonder if some Tinker had taken them and built something before.

Of course someone had. Of course.

Nick was taking the workshop too, but not Heather- which honestly might have been for the best. I also saw Benny, who was trying valiantly and energetically to turn his own sheet of paper into some kind of Picasso and Gogh still life (what of, was not clear), and the tiny blonde girl that I was pretty sure had been sitting on the ceiling in the sunroom the day of my orientation.

I was pretty sure, because she was sitting on the ceiling again. This time with a fistful of markers and a length of butcher's paper. She lay on her stomach, legs idly kicking in the air as she drew. Almost all of it was even on the paper.

"I used to draw all the time, back at home." I said, "But I haven't had much inspiration since..." Since the alley. And the hospital. "Since I came here I guess."

I hadn't felt very creative at all. But… I think that was passing. I took another look at the squiggle, turned the page again.

The nurse was mostly concerned with Benny, since he was getting paint everywhere. Hmm. That might be something. I started working on the line of the desk, Benny's energetic movements and the nurse bending over the desk kind of worked themselves into the squiggle…

Well, I didn't think I'd be winning any competitions, but it was something.

"I had a dog," Nick said, "… Called her Snickers."

I looked up from my paper. Nick was propping his cheek up on his arm, wistfully staring across the cabinets.

"Used to walk her with Dad." He said, "Play fetch in the woods, she'd chase everything that could run."

There was a deep melancholy, in his expression. I turned my power on him, but it was impossible to be sure- was it the loss of the dog, his father, or the freedom of the outdoors? It could have been all of them, and none. He'd been here longer than me, all of those things were something I didn't have… and Dad was a painful place in my heart, but it was already a distant one.

I'd been too young when he died to hold onto it, and I had happier times since then to dull his loss. What about Nick? Had it been a transition from some life changing horror to this empty, lifeless place?

I turned back to my paper, and started to draw the girl. I hadn't caught her name. She was positioned above Benny and the nurse. The streamer of butcher's paper on my page was longer, trailing off behind and below the desk under her.

A shadow passed overhead. I looked up to find the subject of my drawing staring back at me.

She wordlessly extended a hand, pointing. Well, I was mostly just bored anyway- I handed her the page.

She curled up, floating in the air as she studied what I'd drawn and I watched her in turn. It was fascinating, she was just… floating there. My power hinted at her power. Some kind of area-effect dealing with objects around her, including her own body. Telekinesis? Something more nuanced?

"It's pretty," The little flying girl said, quietly, hushed.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Audrey." She had a faint lisp, and looked right at my face when she handed my paper back to me, "You're good drawin'," she whispered.

I smiled at her and, slowly, she smiled back.

...

"The name the staff use is 'Alpha Lyrae'. She never had a name outside Alchemilla." Nick answered, "I, uh, I think a couple of the Doctors named her Audrey. Part of her therapy, I think."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"She was an orphan or something, the PRT just found her one day up in New York." Nick scuffed his feet as he walked, "She barely talks. I think she was a Ward for a little while, but she had some kind of fit, I guess? It was in the news, I think."

He shrugged, scuffing his slippers. I hmmed.

We were walking to lunch, art therapy over. I felt a little better, but Audrey's shy smile bothered me. Just like Nick's hesitance bothered me, and Mimi's hesitant… I tried to put a word to it. Unfamiliarity? Like she wasn't shy, not the way Nick was, but she wasn't used to people talking to her.

Nick himself... It was a little strange, I… didn't think that his power tampered with his brain. It wasn't intrusive, not like Mimi's, or like Sveta's. He came across as… a little anemic, I guess. Just kind of substantial and lethargic, and thin, he always kind of faded into the background around Heather. But she was a bit off-center so maybe that wasn't really fair. He just seemed a little washed out and sad. Depressed? I didn't know.

The chirpy, annoying, automated, _pointless_ PA announcements softly continued overhead.

 _Alchemilla is a world-renowned psychiatric health center specializing in inpatient treatment. Our Psychiatrists, physicians, and licensed professionals are board certified to meet the mental health needs of-_

"I just…" I tried, "She seems pretty well-adjusted." Which was a backhanded compliment if I'd ever given one, damn it, but she was just a little kid. I couldn't imagine her belonging here let alone living here for more than a year. What would that do to someone? Someone as young as she was? She couldn't have been older than ten!

"I don't know her very well," Nick admitted. Nick shrugged again, and tried to smile but it ended up more of a grimace.

Again, the itch. My power pinged, he was using his, or, it was active. If he couldn't turn it off, it had to be working almost all the time. That happened a lot, usually accompanied by shame and almost physical pain. "Nick... what's your power?" I asked.

Nick jerked like I'd struck him, shrank back a little. "Uh…"

I crossed my arms, "I know you used it just now and…"

"I…" He stared at the floor, "It's nothing special."

"Nick… it hurt you. I know you can't turn it off, but that's all I know." I frowned, severely. At least, I hoped that was how it looked. I didn't think I did severe very well. My glasses made my eyes too wide for it to really take most of the time. It made me look like a large-eyed bird, and when I was younger it only served to get my cheeks pinched.

He was quiet for a moment, then mumbled something so quiet I couldn't catch it.

"What?"

He was pale and his hands shook, and the explanation came out in a rush, "You won't like me any more if I do."

I blinked. Why wouldn't I like him? It felt truthful, but also… shallow? Empty? I'd never felt something like that before, not from someone I was talking to. Voice and inflection were both correct, but I could feel a hollowness- insincerity without the intent to deceive. Did he not mean it? Maybe it was mechanical response, rote reaction? Maybe he didn't like to think about it? Prior experience?

-and a variety of of innovative new mental health treatments-

His expression flickered between fear and apprehension, and shame. Burning shame. "Would you feel better about it if I promised not to?" I asked softly.

Nick jerked and shook his head quickly, "Um, no, can't you tell- your power?"

"No, I try not to… um, invade people's privacy. If I can avoid it." I did. It was harder, if I touched them. "I don't look, if I can help it. But I know a little, just standing near you. You're a Thinker, it has something to do with emotion, I think. You can't turn it off, but it causes you discomfort sometimes, and it just did a moment ago."

Nick nodded slowly, eyes darting up to mine, then down to the floor guiltily. "I… I know what you're ashamed of, or afraid of. What people are afraid of."

I leaned back a bit at that, in surprise. That was… I stalled as I organized my thoughts, "Ah?" I breathed faintly, thinking. What would that be like, to know the most disgusting, most shameful secrets of everyone I ever met? Before I knew anything else about them? What would that be like? But I did know, didn't I?

I touched on my power, and blinked at how afraid he was.

His shoulders were drawn in, hunched forward- the instinctive reaction to anticipated injury. He was bracing for my rejection, or fear. I knew what that felt like, I knew what it was like.

"That's kind of like my power, too, you know?"

Nick met my gaze. I smiled, and ever so slowly, he returned it.

...

Benny had lunch with us. Heather too.

And as Benny didn't have an off switch and Heather didn't have any restraint of any kind, so our table ended up a little crowded and chaotic. I wasn't alone, actually I felt a little crowded. It felt so strange, so different from my first few days.

Benny waved his arms in wide, exaggerated motions as the regaled Heather with a story of his great exploits. I'd heard it three times, and tuned it out, content to eat my sandwich, a little withdrawn from them.

"-And then he fell down the stairs, so I picked myself up and ran to find security- bravely, of course!"

I still wasn't sure if Benny's stories were driven by his sense of humor, or by a disconnect to reality. But they had me smiling all the same.

Lunch was… nice.

Afterwards we all gravitated towards the sunroom. I saw Charnel, seated motionless in the corner by the bookshelf, hands clasped loosely in her lap. She looked like she was asleep, nodded off with her hair obscuring her face. The heavyset man with the orange scrubs was back napping on one of the easy chairs, snoring quietly.

"Want to watch anything?" asked Heather, "We're got all the classics. How's Die Hard sound?" Benny and Nick made approving sounds.

Heather and Benny gravitated to the television, grabbing the remote and looking over the movie library. Nick sat down on the empty couch. I didn't particularly like Die Hard, but I hadn't watched any movies in a while. I kind of drifted across the room while Heather and Benny struggled for the remote to set it all up.

I glanced at the heavy man in the easy chair, and out of curiosity turned my power on him- and to my surprise, he was awake. Awake, and very aware.

I hesitated, then gave the apparently-asleep man a smile, "Um, h-hello?"

He snored quietly, and his breathing shifted slightly. If I didn't have a power that told me otherwise, I'd have thought he was actually asleep.

"I know you're not asleep." I said, "Why are you pretending?"

He opened an eye and looked at me, and yawned lightly, "Hello again." He grumbled.

I remembered him from my first group meeting, and he'd been napping in the sunroom that first day. But for the life of my I couldn't remember his name. I didn't think we'd ever been formally introduced.

"Taylor." I held out my hand.

"Blake." Obligingly, he shook my hand. "And you're Auspice."

I blinked at him, "Just Taylor is fine."

Blake leaned back and winked slowly, "Maser, once upon a time. Used to run with some guys up in Jersey." Blake said.

He'd been a cape? I frowned and thought back. Not a recent name, I was sure about that. I started mentally backtracking. Blake's face fell a little as the silence stretch on- It took me a moment to connect the name with who he meant, and no wonder, I'd been a toddler when that name meant something.

The blood left my face in a cold rush, and I felt a little weak in the knees. My eyes couldn't widen any further if they tried, but he just brightened and laughed. "Oh, you know most of the time it's the Heroes that get all tangled up in knots when I tell 'em that. You sure you weren't a hero?"

"Uh, no. I-I wasn't."

He raised an eyebrow, and his smile dimmed again. "Relax, kid, I'm retired." He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Maser had definitely been a villain. He'd made a big name for himself in a number of New Jersey gangs shortly after capes stopped being an urban legend, working as hired muscle. He didn't have the Marquis' invincible reputation, but he'd been strong. Oh, he was no Alexandria or Legend, no Eidolon, and certainly no Hero. But he'd been a big name before the Protectorate had been a formal institution, that carried weight.

Maser had disappeared about eight years ago, jst fallen off the face of the planet. And it was a big deal because he was one of a handful of capes that were powerful- truly powerful, back when they stepped out of the shadows.

Why was he here?

I hadn't heard anything about any kind of meltdown- not the sudden kind that usually ended in explosions and a chase that ended at the lip of one of the craters. And that's the kind of thing that usually accompanied a sudden vanishing act like that.

That had happened, not too long ago. I tried to remember the name- it had been a Ward from Pennsylvania, but the name eluded me. All I could recall was the news had been full of that last shot, of a tiny, distant figure running and crawling down the fog-shrouded slope towards the center of the crater in Michigan, towards the faint light that always illuminated the lake at the bottom; until it was swallowed up in the distance and the mist.

There was full coverage for days afterwards whenever it happened, especially if it was a Hero. There was always a lot of collateral.

But… I wasn't getting that impression off Blake. He seemed very laid back, and his stare, from lazy half-lidded eyes was intelligent and assessing.

"You are not insane." I decided.

"That a fact?" Blake replied, and after I gave him a hesitant nod he grunted, "Figured you're smart."

He leaned forward a little, "Tell you a secret, about half the people here are insane, the rest are just dangerous, or people want them locked away and can't send 'em to the 'Cage." He winked again, "Take me- I walk up to the front door and tell 'em I'd like somewhere to retire to where Accord or Chain Man or whoever isn't going to come busting down my door some day because I let myself get fat and slow. Tell 'em I want to retire and I'd like to cut them a deal." He winked again, "See, me? I'm one of the strongest Artilleries in the business, but I can do controlled too. And they got a lot of head cases here, one or two even with a lot of power. So, I tell 'em I can help out if someone gets rowdy. All I ask for is three square meals, a comfortable bed, and no head shrinking."

I blinked at him owlishly, "You… you aren't even a patient?"

"Didn't say that." He flicked his fingers up, and I followed the gesture… Someone had taken a marker and scrawled under the lip of the divider between the cafeteria and the Sunroom, up where you didn't notice unless you knew where to look-

"In a mad world, only the mad are sane." I read.

"Talk to Charnal, been here longer than I have. That girl knows more than she lets on. If you can puzzle through what she says, she is one of the crazy ones." I turned back to Blake, but he was leaned back, and with one last grin and secretive wink, he went back to pretending to be asleep.

I thought about the line, hidden above the door, and additional patients drifted into the sunroom. The huge, obese woman puffing and wheezing, the rocking man (he walked very slowly, with both hands fisted at his temples). Benny and Heather were in a quiet argument attempting to decipher the workings of the television.

 _("I know what I'm doing- so what, they updated the system."_

 _"I don't think they changed it…" Nick hazarded._

 _"But what about-"_

 _"No, wait, I found the manual." Nick lifted it triumphantly and Heather immediately snatched it from his hand.)_

I didn't feel like getting in the way of that. Would my power even work on that kind of problem? I wondered…

They did, eventually, manage to get Die Hard working much to Heather's cheer. The movie began, and more patients gravitated towards the sunroom. Heather and Benny both lay on the floor, with the remote. Nick sat beside Heather, and I flanked our little group on Benny's side.

A couple additional patients gravitated towards the television as Bruce Willis struggled with the vagaries of holiday travel. I found the patients more interesting than the movie. That one, the balding middle aged man with dark hair washing his hands over and over again with an antiseptic wipe, he was a Tinker- something to do with Composition or Content. That one over there, in the cafeteria the obese woman, she had a strange one, she could…

A chill ran down my spine. There- I could see the little doll-person. Marionette. She was perched on the back of the couch, smiling widely right at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.

Doctor Yamada had said she'd be in solitary for three weeks! How was she here?

Was she alone?

My eyes darted from face to face. There were nearly a dozen patients gathered in the room at this point. I couldn't be sure- no there! Lizard Prince was lurking in the back, on one of the chairs along with Blake. The girl with the tentacle hair was there too, Inkling. The rest of the gang was out in the Cafeteria. I could see them at the table closest to the Sunroom, talking. Quilt darted a furtive glance my way.

I turned back to the movie, swallowing, and stared at the screen without seeing it. Why were they here? No- first, what could I find out using my power? I took a deep breath, and I loosened my mental hold on it, and turned it on them each.

I closed my eyes and focused on the attention on me- the focus. There were enough people in the room that I had to really sort through what I was picking up, pick through the wordless conversations around me to find the words I wanted to hear. To listen to. The three out in the cafeteria were too far away for me to get a firm impression. Marionette was flush with anger and a malicious impulse for mischief. It was so clear I could tell from where I sat. Lizard Prince, he was much more nebulous. Consideration, cool calculation. But it was more focused, the aim unclear, but narrow.

Marionette hopped down from the back of the couch and walked back to him. I couldn't hear them talking over the movie, and the sound of my heartbeat. But… I wasn't picking up immediate danger. Whatever Marionette was planning or intending; she was going to bide her time. Or I wasn't familiar with enough to pick it up of her. It could fall either way, probably.

And neither option made the stares on the back of my head any easier to bear.

From the back of the room, I could feel their stares. I turned around and looked at Lizard Prince and Marionette; and shark like, they smiled back.


	7. Cygnet 1-7

Cygnet 1.7

{Name for a young swan.}

I'd never appreciated how distracting it could be to have someone behind you that you wanted to watch, and not be able to simply turn around and watch them. It was maddening!

My skin prickled, and I was acutely aware of eyes on the back of my head.

I had always wondered if people could feel eyes on them, if it was just hyperbole I imagine it felt much like this. It felt like something crawling on the back of my neck. It was nerve-wracking.

I shuffling around so that I was sitting crosswise from the line that my friends and I had formed in front of the television. The sounds of the movie played in one ear, and the background murmur of conversation between the other patients behind us in the other.

"You think it's funny?"

"I always think it's funny, yes."

It was maddening, splitting my focus too many ways. Patients were still milling about in the cafeteria, moving in and out, and there was a small half-circle gathered around the television with us. The giggling was carried on in the background, softly.

"It always makes me laugh."

"Go laugh somewhere else, then."

There was a low-simmering sense of danger, diffused about the room. It wasn't abstract, was real and imminent. But it had no focal and I couldn't pinpoint the source; I couldn't pin it down and that had me headed for a panic attack. Was it Lizard Prince? Marionette? Who? Why?

I focused ever more intently on Prince, pushing my power as hard as I had with Mimi. Harder.

There was a connection between Lizard Prince and the other patients. It took me a moment to realize they weren't the same kind of connection between him and his gang.

Someone was murmuring under their breath, over and over.

"...They're always departing but they never arrive... and the ones that do arrive... they never leave... you never see them go they're always full... no one ever gets on but they're always... they're always departing but they never arrive..."

 _Obstruction. Relation. Comparing different paths to the same end, methodology._

There was a feeling of gradation there too, but I could differentiate between him and his gang and the others more easily. The other patients were tools, obstacles or objects with varying degrees of usefulness, maybe components. It was interesting. I hadn't realized I could read related information off of more than one thing when they were close by.

He thought of them in terms of what they allowed him to do, if they would get in the way.

Parts of the whole.

It was ironic because I was learning all kinds of things about my power. Any other time I'd be thrilled.

What was worse, I wasn't getting particulars. If I wasn't feeling the danger screaming at me right now, I'd say he wasn't a danger. He was, personally, calm.

"Hey."

I frowned. But if it wasn't him, who was it?

"Hey, Auspice." I blinked and glanced at Heather.

Heather nudged me but it was her glee that got my attention. "Look, here comes Elephant."

I glanced towards the cafeteria as a halting stomp approached. Elephant, Heather had called her. It was the obese woman from before, the one Heather had shoved- with her power, I think, that first day in the cafeteria. Her eyes were tiny and mean, and a low-simmering anger lurked in them. And, again, I wanted to feel sorry for her. But she did not make it easy to sympathize.

She headed towards the back couch, the one still empty. Muttering darkly and vindictively to herself, it was probably supposed to be quiet for her, but it rumbled on behind us.

The sense of danger was still growing. Still unfocused. Lizard Prince was leaned forward now, smiling and interested. Marionette… I couldn't see Marionette.

Where was she? I experienced a moment of panic. I couldn't sense Marionette- I glanced across the patients, hunting for her.

"…and the ones that do arrive... they never leave... you never see them go they're always full... no one ever gets on but they're always... they're always departing but they never arrive..."

Benny was laughing and pointing at the television. Smile wide and expressive. Heather was smiling and cheering right along with him, Nick more reserved.

"Shut up!" Elephant rumbled, little pig-eyes glittering.

Maser wasn't asleep, and the laughing lady was rocking a little. The balding man was still washing his hands. The rocking man held his fists to his temples and rocked. Where was Marionette?

In the back, Elephant stood up and approached us, stomping and limping, "Give me the remote." she rumbled.

"No way, we had it first!" Heather sniped, not looking away from Die Hard.

Benny aimed his free hand at the screen, miming a shot, in the other was the remote.

Then my senses screamed at me, danger! And Elephant lifted one huge fist and brought it down on Benny's head.

Someone screamed. Elephant roared and grabbed Benny by the back of his neck.

She struck him again, in the chest this time, and I heard ribs break, for just a moment, nausea and disorientation hit me like a physical blow, Benny's power firing blind. I jerked, trying to keep from vomiting. Then she threw him with a backhand swing into me.

I had stood, or been standing, stunned, reacting too slowly, and the motion threw me, launched me clean off my feet. There was a flurry of motion, sudden and complete pandemonium. Something bright sailed out in an arc, charring a line down the wall- the paint bubbled curled and blackened at the edges and whitened to ash at the center of the mark.

Benny and I came to rest against the wall; I was winded, he was bleeding.

 _Disorientation. Projection of hindrance, mild disruption of inner ear._

Benny's power. What was- what was going on? I struggled weakly under his weight.

There was a surge of wind, and about half the furniture rose an inch into the air and hurled itself at the doorway, along with the giggling woman, still seated on it. Upon impact, the woman dissolved into a mass of finger-length fleshy worms that immediately burrowed into the ruin of the couch.

I lay there stunned, staring at the chaos as it broke out. Everyone was on their feet, and there was a sudden crush of bodies as everyone tried to push everyone else out of the way to get away, or to fight. Nick was on the floor, desperately crawling backwards out of the middle of the room as Heather threw herself at Elephant, leaping at her with a flying kick and that turned into a springboard off of her shoulder. Elephant stumbled slightly, and Heather was jumping back for more. She rebounded, flying over my head.

Benny was bleeding, there was… a kind of divot in his head. Where Elephant had hit him. It made me nauseous just looking at it. His breathing was ragged and wet, and my power returned a mixture of confusing signals. I hugged him to me and pulled him towards the corner of the room, out from underfoot.

Something flew across the room and latched on to Elephant, a mass of sticky strands entrapping her fist and arm. I glanced up and found Lizard Prince grinning thinly, hand raised. He glanced at me and swung his other hand up, and a second stream of the strands arced out.

My power- it had not prepared me for Elephant's attack but it supplied the arc of his power this time fine- but the strings bent in midair as they ran into a distortion. The air bent, and my vision swam dizzily, when I could see again Lizard Prince laughed. He looked like he was about to say something, only for Blake to sideswipe him.

Arms raised and hands glowing blue, he swept his arms to one side, Lizard jerked like he'd been yanked by a rope and followed the path of his swing, wreathed in a glow as well, until he hit the wall and the glow dissipated. But instead of sinking to the floor, Lizard grabbed the wall and ran up onto the ceiling. One arm lashed out- not the strands this time, the arm stretched out, impossibly long, like rubber. Blake dodged back, and another searing blot of energy pocked the ceiling beside Lizard Prince.

Closer at hand, there was a gust of air, a crash, and a fog began to rise from the wall and the bookshelves. The walls smoked, the paint smoked ran, and the books blackened.

 _Poison. From fluid contact with organic/inorganic objects/surfaces. Catalytic reaction._

A balding man with black hair and a lined face crawled towards us, the back of his scrubs were smoking too. He grabbed my arm. The fear of what the poison could do to my bare skin made me panic, scream and bite his arm. He grabbed my hair and tried to get me to loosen my jaw. He let go, so I let go, and he stumbled off, climbing to his feet and running. The smoke dissipated quickly, rising sharply into the air above us. Lighter than air. Laid out on the floor, Benny and I were safe.

There was another crash as Lizard Prince, Elephant, and Maser moved out into the cafeteria. I sat there, like an idiot, and watched, blinking, stunned. My head was spinning, but Benny's shirt was rapidly turning red and I roused myself.

"Nick!" I looked up, frantically scanning the room. It looked like the site of a natural disaster, with crushed and shattered furniture scattered over the floor, and bodies mixed in, draped limply or laid out unmoving on the floor. How much time had it taken?

"Nick, help me! He's bleeding!" After a moment of hesitation, I reached over and tore his shirt. Underneath, his ribs were broken, and splinters were sticking out from under his skin. His chest was swollen and an angry purple. I pressed one had to his chest and desperately tried to make sense of it.

Nick crawled over, eyes wide, he looked lost; I couldn't see Heather. I stared down at Benny's ruined ribs. I… I didn't know what to do.

There was blood on my hands. Warm and sticky, like I'd dipped them in a bucket of paint. I spread my fingers and there was resistance, they stuck together. I started breathing quickly- no! No time to hyperventilate! I whipped my hand on my shirt.

When this is over, I promised myself, as blood from Benny soaked into my shirt collar. I'll freak when this is all over, have a complete and utter breakdown. Later.

"I can help!"

I jerked, looking up from the horror of Benny's chest to see the patchwork girl with the yarn. Quilt. She sat beside us, and pulled up her right sleeve. She gripped one of the patches- this one looked like velvet, and pulled in off. Then she slapped it on Benny, over the splinters. She did this again, and again, wrapping his chest in them.

 _Sympathetic healing. Weak effect tied to her patches, area of effect. Brings tissue to base state. Limited scope._

It might buy him time.

There was a crash, and one of the chairs flew over us to shatter on the wall. Blake- Maser was out in the cafeteria now, and half a dozen patients were plastered to the floor with a blue glow shrouding them. Maser was flying in the air, hands in his pockets. Lizard Prince was on the floor, elongated limbs limp. Elephant was still up, however, bellowing furiously as Blake's aura pushed her down to one knee.

 _Gravity manipulation. High degree of control. The lasers- small particles rapidly accelerated._

There were security personnel pouring through the doors, and I saw some nurses in green scrubs among them. Maser drifted to the ground as Summer Holiday stepped in. They exchanged a long look. Summer Holiday didn't like him, I thought. Maser let the patients on the floor stand as the staff reached them.

I closed my eyes and sighed, help was here. Benny was still breathing, was still bleeding, and struggling feebly. We were okay.

I clenched my hands together to keep them from shaking, and pulled my knees to my chest.

It was okay. We were going to be okay.

...

 _-Alchemilla provides housing that is far above the national standard in terms of safety, security, and comfort-_

It was quiet, in the infirmary waiting room. Quiet was good. Quiet was… quiet was good. The wall clock ticked, there was no other sound.

Time for that mental breakdown I had promised myself.

I hugged my knees to myself and kept rubbing the damp wipe over my hands, scrubbing at the crevices between my fingers. It was still sticky, I was sure.

 _The smell of antiseptic and floor wax and copper and copper and copper and copper and copper._

Heather was sitting across from me, actually sitting, not fidgeting and twitching. Just… sitting. Nick was next to her, miserable, staring at the floor.

Benny was in surgery.

I didn't have his blood all over myself. Not anymore.

I wiped my hands again.

There were others seated in the waiting room, also waiting for news of someone inside. Charnel stood against the wall, staring unblinking straight ahead. She wasn't hurt, not even her hair was out of place.

She hadn't been fighting, I think I'd seen her on the floor though, just… lying there like some discarded toy. Now, she looked like a mannequin in a store window. She didn't move in the slightest, didn't breathe.

I looked away.

Three orderlies, a man and two women, drifted through the room. One of the women was checking a bandage on Nick's jaw. He'd need stitches. I hadn't even noticed.

I hadn't noticed anything.

My power hinted at inexperience, at lack of skill, but also at compassion.

 _Sympathy. Empathy. Drive to assist endangered members of social group._

I tuned it out. It was cold and impersonal, and… and so pointless.

Quilt and Frog sat by themselves, in the corner.

They had placed themselves defensively- close to the door with their backs to the wall. I wondered if they expected some kind of backlash. That didn't make much sense to me, Lizard Prince had played a very minor role in what happened. But… I guess anger could be senseless.

Benny.

Why had Elephant done that to him?

I drew in on myself, hunching my shoulders and hugging my legs. I shivered. I was cold.

Why had she done that?

I hadn't seen it coming. I hadn't imagined it happening. I had been so focused on Lizard Prince I hadn't realized that he wasn't the threat, the source of my sensed danger. If I had… If I…

It wasn't right, I'd been there. I'd been holding him and I had no idea what to do. I had a power, but it'd been useless, again. He had been right there, in my arms. I'd been holding him. I had…

The door opened.

A doctor in green scrubs stepped out. He walked across the room and through another door without saying a word.

The clock kept ticking. I kept waiting.

I was looking when the girl entered, not through the door, through the wall. She wasn't wearing patient scrubs either- she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. She had red hair- which reminded me warmly, sharply, and painfully of Emma; but her hair was darker and shorter.

She glanced around cautiously and caught me staring.

"Hi…"

I blinked at her.

"… Don't tell the doctors I'm here." She said, and when I said nothing she slid the rest of the way out of the wall. A moment later she… shifted. Jeans and sweatshirt became scrubs- blue ones -and she sat down on the bench beside me. Her skin darkened and her hair lengthened.

Heather glanced at her, "Hey Gretchen."

"Who got hurt?" She asked.

"Benny." Heather said, "It looked bad too."

Heather glanced at me, "This is Taylor," Heather introduced me, "Taylor, this is Gretchen, also known as Nymph."

I didn't ask any questions, this was normal now, I was sure I'd get used to it eventually.

Gretchen turned back to Heather immediately, "I could ask All-Eye to look if you want, but if she gets caught again it'll be someone's head."

Heather shook her head, "I don't know… No. It…"

The door opened and the doctor stepped through. He was accompanied by Doctor Yamada, Doctor Werneck, and Doctor Greene. Doctor Greene had a double take when he saw Gretchen.

"…Gretchen?" Doctor Greene asked, one hand darting to his glasses, adjusting them.

"…Hey." She muttered, looking resigned.

I'd worked with both of them before.

I didn't really like Werneck- a hawkish, lean man in a blue suit. He reminded me too much of one of the professors Mom worked with. Not exactly terrible… but impatient and focused on his field, uninterested in the lives of his students.

Doctor Greene was shorter, wore glasses, and was one of the youngest on faculty. He was far more pleasant, but inexperienced.

I'd prefer to talk to Doctor Yamada.

"What are you doing here, Gretchen?"

"I hear something happened." Gretchen shrugged, "One of my friends got hurt. I had to find out who."

That didn't seem like the truth. I sensed _insincerity_ , but also _earnestness_ … so not the whole truth? I didn't know. I couldn't find the energy in me to care. I looked down at my feet, the legs of my scrubs were still stained with blood. I had blood on my socks. It was dried and still sticky but dark now, almost black. It made my skin itch.

"… We need to talk to each of you."

There was a pause.

"Taylor?"

Doctor Yamada stepped over to me, and squatted down so she was eye level with me where I sat. The silence stretched on until I looked up and saw her realized she'd been talking to me.

"Is that all right, Taylor?" she asked quietly.

"Sure." I whispered.

She took my hand, and I stood, following her out. I was beginning to suspect what this was about, what she was going to say.

When she turned to face me, I think she understood it too. There were tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Taylor. I have some bad news."

I knew what he was going to say. With a sinking certainty in the pit of my stomach I swallowed.

"Benny died in surgery, a half an hour ago," she said, "I… I wanted to be the one to tell you. You were his friend."

Emma was my friend. My best friend. I'd hardly known Benny. I hadn't known him well enough to be a friend, had I?

 _'One day I will be a renowned hero, hailed worldwide for my daring exploits!'_

I smelled copper.

"Why would someone do that to him?" I asked, in the silence it sounded much louder than I intended.

Doctor Yamada sighed, and reached out to hug me. I didn't fight her, I was too busy trying to parse what she'd said. It kept getting jumbled, out of order. Kept echoing, skipping, repeating, but not sticking.

Benny was dead.


	8. Cygnet 1-8

Cygnet 1.8

{Name for a young swan.}

The clock ticked, ticked, ticked, ticked on and on and… It was the only sound, I wanted something else. But the clock just kept ticking.

I felt like I was back in isolation.

I wasn't in a cell. Wasn't in a straightjacket. There was carpet on the floor, and I was sitting on a comfortable couch, knees pulled to my chest. But I felt trapped. I was tense, I… I felt distant, remote, removed from the world around me, like I was outside it, looking in.

Even as I was so very aware of it.

I knew there was someone at the door an instant before the latch turned. Knew who it was at the door before I saw him.

Doctor Geoffrey Selmy was a weathered, clean-shaven man of about sixty-five, though you'd never imagine it looking at him. His skin was dark and leathery and deeply lined- creased but not loose.

His shoulders were wiry and thin, and his glance was bright and intelligent. He wore a grey suit and vest, the jacket thrown over one arm and walked with the energy of a thirty-year-old. He wasn't a tall man, at just a little over five and a half feet tall even I was taller, but he had a way of carrying himself that meant I forgot that sometimes. I liked Doctor Selmy. Doctor Yamada left me with a warmth and a smile. Lifted spirits. Doctor Selmy left me with energy and drive.

Usually.

I didn't know if I wanted that right now.

"Hello again, Taylor." He said, sitting across from me and laying his coat on the arm of his chair, "Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"No. No thanks..."

He gave me a searching look.

"Well, I'd like some water. Do you mind?"

I shrugged. Doctor Selmy poured himself a glass of water from the table pitcher. He always had something on hand. His office was more informal, less structured than I imagined a psychiatrist's office. A coffee table with the water and glasses, my couch, his easy chair. The warm colors and the carpet and bookshelves with pictures, certificates, and thick books.

"Jessica told me what happened yesterday." He said, and then let it hang, sipping his water.

I didn't say anything. What was there to say?

"Taylor?" Doctor Selmy prodded, "If you feel up to talking, I am here."

I rubbed my arms, I felt cold. "I don't know how I am supposed to feel." I said at last.

"There is no 'way' you are supposed to feel." Doctor Selmy said, "No 'way' anyone is supposed to feel after losing a friend."

I pulled my knees closer, tighter. "I hardly knew him."

Doctor Selmy peered at me, I didn't have the heart to look at him, I could feel his sympathy. His attention. It was like a spotlight directed over me.

"Taylor?"

"I've never had many friends, only Emma. I don't know how- how to make friends. I didn't know him well." I trailed off, "Not well enough."

Doctor Selmy sighed, he leaned back.

"We don't have to talk about this, if you would like." He smiled.

I was sorely tempted to smile and nod back. My early days at Alchemilla, Doctor Selmy had broken me out of depressed slumps with interesting stories.

I didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. I wanted to hear one of those right now, to forget about everything. I nodded, then I shook my head. No, no. Take control of my own recovery. But how did I, what did that even mean in… in… in this context. What did I call this?

"I want to talk about it. I just… I don't…" I stopped and took a deep breath.

I took breath- a step back from the thoughts and the emotion.

"I wanted to be a hero, once." I said, "Emma and I'd talk about what we'd do if we ever got powers. I used to watch Protectorate Pals every episode. I thought if I got powers, I'd be able to make a difference, like that, like- like Alexandria."

Doctor Selmy didn't say anything, let me talk.

"But Benny was right there. I was holding him, he was in my arms. I couldn't do anything for him right there." I swallowed, "I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything…"

I fisted my hands, "I… I don't know if I can be a hero." They don't let crazies into the Protectorate. Maybe… I could be an independent… but it felt hollow, "And everyone is… everyone is like a-a parody of a everything I imagined being a hero to be, and they're broken and I'm broken-"

"Taylor," Doctor Selmy said, a little sharply, "before the Protectorate put a copyright on the word, 'Hero' meant something more than a cape, tights, fame, or powers. It meant a depth of character. It meant someone idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities."

He gave a sour, knowing smile, "These days it's a brand statement."

I blinked at him, a little thrown, and Doctor Selmy looked at me, thoughtful.

"Taylor, how long have you had your powers?"

He knew the answer to that question, "Three months."

"And how freely have you been able to use your powers?"

"Not much…" I admitted slowly.

"It takes more than a decade of intensive schooling to become a doctor. Longer, for specialized fields of medicine and surgery. Your power can't compensate for all of that."

"I- it's my power. I ought to, ought to be able to-"

"Taylor," Doctor Selmy said very softly, "This isn't your fault."

"I…"

I didn't have a reply to that, but I didn't believe him. I didn't know if I wanted to believe him.

He looked pensive for a beat, before he stirred. "Would you like to hear a story? One from my first five years in Alchemilla."

He looked at me expectantly until I nodded.

"I once had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a young woman who went by the moniker of 'Feral.' Now, this young woman had lead a troubled life, and had a great deal of difficulties growing up. She was bright, but often very crude and abrasive. She was not here willingly, and often fought the efforts of the staff to help her."

Doctor Selmy stopped to pour himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the side table. He offered me a glass as well, and then sat back to sip thoughtfully. And then he began.

She came from a single parent household, she had experienced many kinds of abuse while young. She had difficulty learning to trust her therapists, and lived at Alchemilla for more than two years before she started to come out of that shell. But she did make progress.

"Feral was a wonderful young woman. She had a vibrant personality, one that did not fare well in confinement, but she resolved to better herself. To do something with her life."

Doctor Selmy's voice tailed away into nostalgia and… grief? I blinked. Yes. Grief. Greif is what this was.

He was sad; the story didn't have a happy ending.

"Feral had been a villain, two years or more before she came to us- she didn't like to talk about it. But she felt great remorse for her actions. These were no small crimes, she was a thief, a vandal, and a murderess…"

Doctor Selmy paused and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, "Feral felt… a profound remorse for what she had done. She wanted to find some way to repair the damage. To restore what she had taken and what she had broken. I encouraged her, at first. Until she got it in to her head that…"

He held his hands out in front of them, staring at them for long, long seconds as the clock ticked.

"She was a regenerator, a powerful one. She volunteered to donate organs, a living organ bank. I… I tried to stop it at first. But she thought it was the only way she could contribute. The first trials went well and a second bank of tests, human trials, was greenlighted."

"Three months in, her issues began to metastasize. By the time we realized what had happened, it was too late. Her power had become a super-powered cancer, one that was impossible to cure."

Doctor Selmy turned to look at me, his eyes were wet. Mine were too.

The silence stretched on.

Doctor Selmy sighed heavily, "Feral was a young spirit; one that was wounded by the world many times, before I was called on to help her. Because I suggested she find an outlet, I ultimately supported her when she decided to follow that course of action. And because of that, I have to live with what happened, and my role in it."

I stared at him. I almost couldn't breathe.

"Taylor…" Doctor Selmy said, speaking very softly, "I want you to understand. What happened to Benny was not your fault. It is something that happened, it is something that you will remember, but it was not your fault. I know it does not feel like that right now, but I want you to know... I have an idea of what you are going through. You are not alone in it."

Doctor Selmy leaned back, somber and level, "I don't want to hear you saying any patient here is broken. Especially you. I have seen too many good people use it to excuse themselves, to tell themselves they are helpless, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."

I looked away, glanced up over his bookshelves. There was a framed picture on the wall. A photograph and writing. A man and a girl. It read 'Kalie Selmy' and two dates too smudged for me to read. And at the bottom… 'The Feral are Tame to their kind.'

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"She went on to become a Protectorate hero." Doctor Selmy said, "It wasn't easy, and she had many challenges along the way. But her triumph has carried me through many disappointments."

I looked up, but Doctor Selmy was smiling; sadly, but sincerely, and I felt a little better.

"… I'll try."

...

I closed the door behind me, back at my own room. The day had flown past in a blur. I could hardly remember any of it.

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall for I don't know how long. I wasn't thinking, wasn't acting, I didn't have any energy left for anything but just sitting and staring.

Eventually I blinked, and I noticed my desk.

I… hadn't imagined actually getting it, and certainly not this quickly.

I stared at it. It was a setup just like I'd had in Isolation- the computer was housed in a metal block that doubled as a desk, the screen was set behind a pane of heavy glass.

My room hadn't been large to start, and the desk and chair made it even smaller. I could get up out of bed and lay down to do pushups or maybe pace in a circle… in the middle of the room I could hold my arms out and not risk touching any of the furniture, but not much more.

The clock was still ticking.

Then in a flash I was angry, incredibly angry, I jumped to my feet and crossed the room in a leap- raised my hand to smash the screen. Punched the glass…

"Motherfucker!"

I rocked for a while, cursing myself and the desk; afterwards I curled up on the floor holding my hand. Ow.

That helped clear my head. The anger was still there but it wasn't blinding any more. At the time, the pain was blinding, actually.

I lay there until the pain faded to a bull throb, distant.

I applied my power- sprained ligaments, joint. Sprained fingers.

I sighed without any energy. Didn't break anything, there was that. The clock read eleven. Lost some hours.

At least I didn't need to worry about nightmares.

...

Group therapy reminded me painfully of my first session. Benny had been there, and Charnal, and Nick and Heather.

Benny had been a bright welcome to Alchemilla, introducing himself guilelessly and shaking my hand with so much energy. Everything about him had been warm and genuine.

There were new faces at this session. A waifish, thin girl with very pale skin and long red hair that did nothing to hide the metal mask and filter affixed over her jaw. She spoke with a synthesized voice and didn't meet anyone's eyes. My power hinted at her power involving sound, something deadly. I guess that explained the mask.

There was an enormous and heavily muscled blonde man with close-cropped hair and a severe scowl. He spoke with a thundering bass that made my head ring, and might have been more appropriate trying to communicate across a busy intersection. He was a Brute, maybe.

Maser was there, Charnel too. Heather and Nick were not.

I sat at the circle, with my legs drawn up to my chest.

"…I always had direction under Seamstress." Muscles was saying. He sat ruler-straight, perfect posture. Didn't fidget, even while he boomed every word, "There were rules, goals, we had a team. There were rules. Since that time I have been unable to find equilibrium. I am drifting." He roared.

"Regalia, one of the rules at Alchemilla is that if the staff ask you lower your voice, you lower your voice."

The nurse leaned back a bit, possibly anticipating more ringing bass.

I idly leaned on my power, bending it on him. I hadn't met him before, and it gave me mostly an abstract impression- something that felt like an obsession, a perspective. Obsessive compulsive? And anger, so much restrained anger.

"Can you please quiet down?" the thin girl with the synthesizer said. The mask rendered her voice in Darth Vader's best flat metallic echo, almost inflectionless, "You're making my head hurt."

"Nurse Jerrison! Group rules dictate-"

I sympathized with headache girl, I was headed that way myself. Basilisk sat on Regalia's right, Charnel on his left. Charnel looked serene, or much as her ever was, blankly staring unblinking into space. Basilisk leaned back, rubbing her temples.

"Basilisk, please, try to respect group rules." Nurse Jerrison was starting to look a little frayed around the edges, tension building in her shoulders as she juggled these personalities. This wasn't at all like my first group session. It was too discordant, no one was working together, nothing was getting done.

"All right, all right." Nurse Jerrison sighed, "I think we're done for the day. Thank you all for coming."

I stood up and listlessly watched as the rest of my group drifted for the door. I followed them out, arms folded close to me. I felt insulated from the rest, where I had wanted to know them before.

Now… I didn't know.

A hand touched my shoulder, Blake, we stopped in the hall, "Hey kid."

He peered at my face, "You feeling all right?"

I nodded silently.

"You sleeping all right?"

I shook my head, "No, I…" coughed, tried again, "I don't sleep, my power, I, uh, I don't need to."

Blake blinked, "Huh."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Look, um."

"Was he your friend too?" I asked.

Blake closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath. I had a hard time imagining him as a supervillain. Someone dangerous and feared and larger than life. He seemed so… tired.

"… Yeah." Blake said softly, "Thought I was done losing people when I left the streets behind me."

I nodded, didn't know what to say, but then I hadn't known Benny very long. Maybe if I'd known him longer it'd mean more and I'd know what to call what it meant to me.

"Benny was made up of snips and snails and puppy-dog tails, and butterflies. Lots of Butterflies and sunshine. Trust me, I cut that bitch open once to check." Blake growled. I blinked up at him, and he grinned wide… But he was sad…

"But he wouldn't want you to take a hit on his account. You know?" Blake said.

"Yeah…" I said softly, "Yeah, thanks."

"Heh." Blake huffed a laugh, but it was a little forced, "See you around kid."

We stepped out and I started walking. Maybe I'd go to the library and see if there was anything to read? I'd asked Doctor Selmy about getting books in addition to the computer, anything to eat up the time after curfew.

But I didn't really feel like reading… I felt listless.

I kept walking, but now my path turned towards the exercise room. Maybe a few hours of mind-numbing physical activity to drain the extra energy.

I could run, at least. Maybe a couple of the other patients would want to play basketball? Heather might.

It was still an hour before lunch, but I could find out where she was from the nursing station. I kept walking, following the hallway back towards the cafeteria. There was a distant shout.

I stopped and blinked, listening.

Something prickled over my skin, a sense of different. My sense of direction was confused. Which was strange, because I'd gotten used to having a third sense of direction- to knowing where everything was with my power, around me -now it felt like… like I was in two places at once.

Something was interfering with my power.

There was a distant whine, like an alarm. But it was faint, far away, and a cool wash ran down my back, chilling me, goosebumps rose on my arms. It was cold! What was going on with the air conditioning?

And then the walls- I jumped back as one wall bubbled and peeled back, rotted away in rusty strips. There was chipped and crumbling concrete, and rusted wire mesh under it, stained with rust and water stains. The lights became bare bulbs in wire cages overhead, flickering and sputtering.

I the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

"What the fuck?"

The hallway transformed in a wave, flowing out from the door, leaving rust and concrete in its wake. It was cold. The lights flickered and cast garish shadows under me.

I was dry mouthed. Tentatively, I pinged my power, searching for the sense of location, or position I knew had been there a moment ago, that assured sense of knowing where everything was. Instead the shadow of my map echoed back, superimposed with a sense of change. Faint, indistinct, indecipherable.

The lights flickered, casting shadows over the nightmarish hallway, two thirds gone to rust and concrete, lopsided, the rest still peeling away in sickly strands of paint and rust.

I jumped back with a yelp as chains fell from the ceiling, slipping through rust-stained holes in the concrete with a clatter.

"Okay… okay." I whispered, heart pounding.

I glanced behind me, then back the way I had been walking. I waffled. Then I kept walking, avoiding the eerie, bare walls. I'd been closer to the cafeteria, and the security booth that adjoined it. I could still make it, right?

I hugged my arms to myself. It was getting colder. The hallway… was it shorter than I remembered?

I stopped and blinked, the hall now ended suddenly in a door, not one of the blank wooden ones, identical and interchangeable, found all over the wing. This was a huge, rusted, metal monstrosity that filled the hall in front of me, engraved with abstract shapes and patterns too eroded for me to make out.

There wasn't a doorknob either, just a rusted metal ring.

"Okay… okay…" I repeated. "Okay, freaky shit, but that's okay."

I took a deep breath, "This is okay."

My expectations of Alchemilla were completely destroyed at this point, I was very, very tired of feeling scared. Now… now I was surprised, my fists were clenched- I was starting to feel angry.

"Okay." I said, my voice still sounded thin and quiet, I coughed and tried again. "Okay!" … better?

I reached for the ring, gripped it and pulled… The door didn't budge.

Oh, oh yeah. It probably weighed twice what I did. That wouldn't work. I stared at the door, feeling silly. It was only a door…

I looked back the way I'd come. There were other doors, also transformed. One was slowly metamorphosing, from metal plate into a dangerous-looking rusty red grate. The walls were almost completely transformed at this point, only a few lonely trails of paint curled into the air, and then into nothingness, the lights flickering cast it in strange shadows. Chains still hung overhead, clanking as they lengthened.

I started walking back the way I came, shivering a little. It was cold.

"Hello? Anybody?"

I stopped to listen, then pinged my power- seeking out the familiar. Anything at all. It was odd, I'd never had to deal with interference before. The strange double-feeling persisted, the echo and static. Which was actually a little worrying. Usually my power filled in gaps and changes over time, but this wasn't clearing, not even a little.

If anything, it was getting worse. It almost felt like it was surging, or something was.

"Hello?"

My head snapped up, "Blake?"

"Over here!"

I ran down the hall. The turns were all wrong, the distance was wrong for the group meeting room, for the administrative offices.

"Blake!" I shouted.

"Here!"

He was behind one of the rusted grate-doors, the prison bar doors. I ran to him and grabbed the bars, "Blake, what's happening?"

"It's Labyrinth." He ground out, "Usually her blowups aren't this big, but I guess we were due one. Fuck this week."

That name again, "Labyrinth?"

"Real strong." Blake said, "Brings imaginary worlds to life."

I blinked at that. Imaginary worlds? Why would someone want to bring an even more hellish version of Alchemilla to life?

I stopped and thought a moment. That feeling was back- the sense of a distant pressure building.

"-get her to calm down. It always makes Labyrinth's fits worse."

"Blake, something's about to happen." I said.

He eyed me warily, "Thinker intuition?"

"I don't know, her power's screwing with mine, it's making it hard to read things, but it feels like this is going to get worse."

There it was again, a surge- rust trails snaked down the walls- and suddenly they bent, like we were standing in a tunnel or a pipe. I heard water drip somewhere.

"Damnit!" Blake swore.

Water was trickling down the middle of the hallway-turned-pipe now.

"Is it going to end? Does she stop?" I asked.

"If she falls asleep it retreats closer to her," Blake said, "But she's on the other side of the Wing, and they move her around to reduce how strong she can get. This shouldn't be possible."

The trickle was a steady steam around my ankles now, and I could hear a distant roaring. The water level was rising.

"Blake!"

There was a surge, I could feel it, and suddenly the water was at chest height. My feet lost purchase on the ground, and in a panic filled moment I started to move.

Blake's eyes widened, and he thrust his arm through the bars, but I was already too far away, I tried to grab his hand all the same.

I could feel his power, gravity surging to grip me. But that strange echo that had made my power unreliable acted on him too, I could feel it. Instead of arresting my movement, I started to slip further and further away, carried by the flow.

"Kid!"

I was carried down the pipe, moving faster and faster, I went under. I broke the surface coughing and sputtering. The last thing I saw before I was dunked again, was Blake gripping the bars with both hands, the water up to his shoulders, fountaining and spraying around him as he fought the pressure.

Then I was under again, and swept away.


	9. Interlude - Annette

"Remember, your papers are due next month, and your rough drafts need to be on my desk or in my inbox by midnight Monday. I won't be available after class today, so if you have questions, you are going to need to talk to me Monday morning at eight. Everyone have a good weekend."

Her class stood and gathered their books, talked in murmurs, and drifted towards the auditorium exit.

Normally, when her last class let let out, Annette took her time as well, stopping to hear her students' questions, voiced complaints and ideas. But today she was on a timer. Which was why, when Lindsey Keine peeled away from the rest, following her, she gave a heartfelt sigh. "Professor, Professor Hebert?"

"Lindsey, I don't have a lot of time today." Annette said, "I've posted my schedule this month. You knew this was coming."

"I know professor, I know, I just-"

"Walk with me." Annette sighed, and Lindsey matched her pace, a brisk walk that had Lindsey trotting to match her longer stride.

"I wanted to do something with, with advent." Lindsey said, "Parahumans have impacted every level of life the world over, and I wanted to compare something before and after the advent-"

Linsey was a good student. Bright, motivated, a little more technical than creative- but that had its place. She had a habit of completely disregarding any guidelines in favor of whatever creative epiphanies she did have when she happened to have any.

"Lindsey, have you discussed this new direction with your group?" Annette cut her off.

"I- um- I did bounce some ideas... Not the full thing, no."

"If you want to change your project that drastically, you'll need to talk to the rest of your group and then email me. Like I said, I will be accepting email submissions. And, if you get it to me by the Monday deadline, I'll accept it."

"Yes Professor." Lindsey deflated a bit.

"See you Monday." Annette said, and left her behind.

Lindsey wasn't a bad kid, and certainly not a terrible student, she just needed to work with her classmates more. What really grated on Annette's nerves was that she was a bit of a cape geek, a tendency which reminded Annette of... of Taylor. It was unfair to think of her students- any of them -that way, but it was what it was.

She sighed.

Annette kept up the pace out into the parking lot, where grey clouds lent the August afternoon a dim cast, found her ageing blue ford, and pulled out and into the afternoon collage traffic.

She headed north, trying to ignore the gang tags on the billboards, a crowned skull painted over blocky letters- E88. The college disrict was left behind as she turned on to an overpass, and all of Brockton spread out under her. The Medhall building towered to the left, and out to her right, the water of the Bay.

Annette headed north towards the Boardwalk, and there the stylized dragon head of the ABB clashed with the coy wink of the Fae. In some places the tags layered on top of one another in a confused jumble. The Teeth's bloody grin, E88's pretentious gothic lettering and swastikas, ABB with dragons and kanji. A few rarer tags, belonging to minor gangs that tried their hand and failed. And the crowned skull. The Marche was as emblematic of Brockton Bay as the shipping industry it was built on and the Marquis had held court in the Bay for twenty years and more. Even while the shipping industry began to struggle, parahumans, and the Marquis, defined Brockton.

As if drawn by that line of thinking, Annette let her gaze drift from the road, out over the boats... Danny always loved boats...

Out on the water, the Protectorate rig dwarfed the boats, towering like a collection of dull grey building blocks on stilts. There was a symbol on the city-side of the rig, a shield and wings, stars and stripes and a motto in Latin. The headquarters of the Protectorate East-North-East.

Annette turned her eyes back to the road before she caused an accident.

She turned off the overpass, followed the turnoff back to ground level. The boardwalk was part of the nicer side of town, with orderly storefronts and neighborhoods that were clean and graffiti-free. Closer to the water it was glitzy, in a way no other part of town was, the piers and beach and the promenade were always busy, even now as the tourist season wound down. The Prom was always open and always lit; where factories had closed and the economic slump drawn on, the Boardwalk had remained vibrant.

Gang signs were not nonexistent, but they were rarer, and not found everywhere. As the nicer side of town, the Protectorate had a regular presence here. And where there were gang signs, the dragons were replaced by the winking eyes- ever since the Fae had pushed the ABB out a few weeks before.

Annette was not sure what to think of the Fae.

Lung was a beast. The face you thought of when a new vigilante was made an example of, when automatic fire erupted somewhere far away in the night, or when a girl disappeared... The ABB being gone from the boardwalk was a good thing. But, as always, another gang had replaced them- and the Boardwalk was still holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Annette turned off the main road, into a neighborhood with trees and two story houses. She pulled up to a house with a garage, a tree in the front yard, and grass just beginning to need cutting; where a girl sat pensively on the front porch, a small suitcase sat beside her. Her hair was red and came to her shoulders- she was pretty. It was almost a juxtaposition whenever Annette saw her and Taylor together- Emma was the pretty one, Taylor was the tall one.

Before, Emma had been full of energy, and it had never failed to bleed over into those around her. Annette had seen that in action, with Taylor. Bringing out smiles in her on her low days, after Danny died. She wasn't smiling now, but she was moving. Fidgeting.

Emma looked up, "Aunt Annette!" she jumped to her feet and walked over as Annette opened the door. She was wearing a comfortable blouse, jeans, with a handbag and sneakers. The drive would be several hours and the stay overnight at a hotel while they visited, followed by the drive home Sunday. Annette's own suitcase was already in the trunk.

"I need to talk to Zoe before we head out, all right?" Annette asked, and popped the trunk for Emma.

"Sure." Emma shrugged, lugging her suitcase to the car.

Annette opened the door and stepped in the the Barnes' household. The front hall's welcome mat muffled the sound of her flats. Zoe was reading at the kitchen table, papers arrayed in front of her.

"Hey Zoe." Annette greeted tiredly.

Zoe stood up, dropping the pamphlet she'd been reading on top of the pile in front of her, "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, Emma's waiting, just wanted to see if you'd heard anything."

After Danny had died, the girls had gravitated together much as Annette and Zoe had. And after her close brush with death, and what that had cost Taylor, Annette had subscribed to the neighborhood watch, and Zoe had followed suit. Annette recognized the pamphlet on the table. She had already read it once, but felt drawn to pick it up regardless. It was plain white paper, and looked like it had been run off a library photocopier en-mass.

 _'Know Where You Are:_

 _The area extending west of Ferry Station North, including most of the Boardwalk and the factories, is believed to be under claim by the parahuman gang 'The Fae', after a successful upset of the ABB._

 _The Fae are led by woman acting under the moniker 'Ingenue'. she is believed to be a Trump with emotional and mental manipulation capabilities. Ingenue has a history of acting indirectly, directing her victims in violent rampages. Ingenue is considered highly dangerous and capable of acting both overtly and covertly._

 _Her ulterior motives are unknown. However, Ingenue is known as an accomplished actress and has engaged in acts of corporate espionage and fraud. Due to the subtle nature of her powers, anyone experiencing violent or suicidal impulses, sudden mood swings, sudden fixations, or other erratic behavior, is advised to seek help from law enforcement, emergency services, and the PRT immediately._

The pamphlet went on to list the known parahuman members of the Fae- Tattletale, a teenager or young woman and relative unknown, speculated to be a Thinker; and Bitch, a girl who controlled monsterous dogs. The pamphlet also noted The Fae possessed a small core organization; either mercenaries, or other hardened sorts recruited for muscle.

Annette had done her research, Bitch had a public record, and a name, Racheal Lindt. She had a long list of foster homes, and had assault, robbery, and homicide on her public record. It struck her as odd that a minor's record would be public like that... But it wasn't something she could use to help Taylor right now. Annette sighed and dropped the pamphlet to the table.

"Any word?"

Zoe shook her head, "Still waiting. There's some talk that the Butcher's rallying to try something, but no telling if the targets will be the Fae, or ABB, or the Marquis."

"It's better than nothing."

Brockton had one of the densest parahuman populations in the United States. Possibly in the first world. There were demographics more heavily weighted towards parahumans in the third world, in Africa and the Middle East, but not in America. In addition to the gangs, there were fourteen known independents in Brockton at the moment. Harsh Mistress, Iron Falcon, Oaf, Vitiator, Saurian... nine members of the Brockton Bay Brigade. The Brockton Bay Brigade was the most visible of the home-brew Brockton white hats. They were photogenic, strong, famous, and after more than a decade continued to fight the gangs with some success. The independents tended to rally around them, a loose alliance of sorts headed by Lady Photon's charisma, Manpower's strength, and Brandish's intensity.

But... Taylor had always been one who stood a little apart from the rest. If Zoe haden't been Annette's best friend, would she have become friends with Emma? Would she have found anyone, or would she have remained alone through her childhood? And, now that she was a parahuman, who would look out for Taylor when- not if -she came home?

The life of an independant parahuman in Brockton didn't have any hard numbers. The national average was five months, without being recruited into a gang, joining the Protectoarate or a larger hero organization. Many, very many, died young and anonymous.

Zoe's hand settled on Annette's shoulder, startling her out of the dark turn her thoughts had taken.

"She'll be all right, Ann." Zoe said, "Go. Emma's been looking forward to this for weeks, and I know you have too." Zoe punched Annette lightly in the arm, "Got 'em?"

Annette smiled a little, "I got 'em."

"Good, now get going Ann. Taylor needs you."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"You ready, Emma?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Annette pulled out, and they drove north, headed for the highway, and then for the interstate. Annette asked about school, and sports, and Emma gave short replies. Annette found herself withdrawing into ther own thoughts as well.

Capes had interested Annette, when she was younger. Why wouldn't they have? They were the great mystery off the century, unfolding in front of her eyes.

She had watched old tapes as a wide-eyed teenager, of the advent, the fiery meteors falling from the sky, appearing midair, vanishing mid-fall. The strange lights and clouds, the colored sky. Lightening and the fire, shadows and shapes, hands and ghostly figures. The plumes of smoke and fire, the crash and rolling rumble with each impact.

She had watched with chills and goosebumps and wide eyes.

Parahumans were huge and frightening, or inspiring, and always drew you in. People flocked to them, good people, bad people, and people that didn't care which they were- and a parahuman could say whatever they wanted, do whatever they wanted, because they appeared powerful. Larger than life. Mysterious.

It had always seemed a distant thing, something that happened on the news. Or a place you heard about but had never been.

All that changed when she became the parent of a parahuman. Suddenly it wasn't a curiosity.

After Taylor triggered, Annette had thrown herself into learning as much about the world of parahumans as she could. It hadn't been some far-off colorful fantasy world any more. Not something that she could pick up when she was interested and put down when she wanted. It was Taylor's life now, she had to be prepared for what that entailed.

Annette was painfully reminded her of her college years, Venus Dawn had been like that, Lustrum's idea of a new feminism. Her movement. It had been all the rage on campus, and the gravity had pulled Annette in for a while.

She had gone to a few meetings, put up posters and handed out flyers once or twice, but it hadn't been about the idea- it had been about being part of what someone with powers was doing. She would have said that she was a supporter of Lustrum, but would have had difficulties pinpointing a particular idea that Lustrum espoused that she really resonated with. Venus Dawn always presented a vague, militant subtext, while many of the women who gravitated to it had genuine grievances, Lustrum always dictated what the result needed to be. So, when her result became insanity, Venus Dawn followed suit.

Annette had been glad that she drifted away from Venus Dawn, before the end. The insanity that had consumed Lustrum and her followers had passed her by.

She had gotten lucky. She'd found Danny.

The highway traffic was sparse leaving Brockton Bay, the rush hour was only starting to pick up, and Annette had most of the road to herself. Emma sat silently, listening to the radio and fiddled with her phone listlessly.

She was nodding out before they crossed the city limits, and sound asleep minutes later.

Annette watched her in the mirrors as she drove. She was pale. Had she lost weight?

Emma was very different from Taylor. They had grown together, and in some ways Annette had raised her as much as Zoe had. But, Annette never understood her the way she could Taylor. Emma was different from Taylor. Taylor was easier, simpler; she was shy, she introverted when confronted, was more comfortable with new books than new people- often hiding behind Emma in unfamiliar situations. Taylor's social circle was borrowed from Emma, and her social growth for as long as Annette had raised her had always been something that followed or emulated Emma's.

The road fell away behind them as Annete drove, signs for Boston began to appear along the highway, Alchemilla was located in the town of Centralia, the location, Annette understood, ideal due to its proximity to Boston and the major Protectorate presence there, but Alchemilla itself was located far outside the city limits. She turned off the interstate, onto the highway, flanked on every side by trees as they snaked their way up hills. With the trees around them, there was an illusion of isolation on that stretch of asphault.

They passed a gas station, and Annette pulled over. They still had half a tank, but Annette liked driving with a full tank.

Emma stirred, blinking sleepily and sitting up straight. Annette was amused to note her trying to hide the trail of drool she brushed away from her chin, "Whuha?"

"Still an hour out." Annette said, "Stopping for gas."

"Oh." Emma had bed head, a tuft stuck up like a ducktail.

Annette started pumping, and leaned against the side of the car, "How's school, Emma?"

Emma said nothing.

Her school year had gotton off to a rocky start, at first it had seemed like she was simply having difficulty making the adjustment from middle school to high school. But then both her parents had both mentioned her withdrawing from them, her lack of enthusiasm, and a reluctance to talk about school in general. She didn't want to participate in any clubs or teams. She had a lot of sick days. It wasn't until Emma can home with a cut lip that Zoe had wondered if Emma was being bullied.

Winslow was not a great school. There were longstanding gang problems, particularly under the ABB. That had hardly changed with the change of territories, the gangs had a presence in most Brockton schools and the fighting out in the streets was repeated in microcosm in the hallways. The recent upset of the ABB's traditional territory sent ripples down through the Brockton underworld's power structure, maybe even into the schools that the gangs recruited from.

Annette consoled herself that it could have been worse, the ABB had been known to pressure pretty girls in high school, trap them with drugs or threats of violence, and force them into prostitution. Some of them vanished and were never heard from again.

Emma had never had a problem making friends, navigating the social circles in middle school, but Winslow was a completely different jungle. The school system was experiencing a resurgence of gang violence as the power structure in Brockton realigned. What would that mean for a lone, pretty girl new to the unfamiliar social landscape?

"You know you can talk to me, Emma?" Annette said, "About anything."

Emma looked out the window, away from her. Her silence made Annette feel still more helpless, and angry. She wasn't sure how to help Emma. She didn't know how to help Taylor, and the helplessness made her feel hollow.

Back on the road, the quiet rumble of the car's engine was the only sound. Emma still wasn't talking, she was withdrawn, her body language defensive, shoulders pulled in.

Annette remembered the last time she had felt afraid for the future. Uncertain.

It had been Danny. They'd met at the height of the Dawn, which made it all the stranger when they hit it off- he was studying maritime economics, she was studying classical literature. They had so little in common.

After the fracas that Venus Dawn had devolved to, Lustrum and several other parahumans had been sent to Baumann Penitentiary. The Birdcage, and Annette had sat watching the television and the news utterly numb. She'd spent a whole week cold, in shock. People had been hurt. People had been killed.

She had been part of it. That had nearly been her.

Danny had pulled her out of that. He'd told her about his life. His temper, that he was afraid of. About his classes. About how trackless he'd felt, growing up. How uncertain he'd felt, thinking about his future. He'd been looking for something to dedicate himself to, like her. He understood, a little, of the shock. Of what she was going through.

Annette shook away the memories.

There were no other cars on the road, and it had been some time since Annette had seen one. Ahead, the turnoff to Alchemilla appeared. Annette took it in, and her eyes widened, she swerved to the side of the road with a squeak of brakes. Emma yelped, But Annette sat at the wheel, staring at the road.

Vines were crawling across the asphalt, the trees moved.

In the distance something rose in a long line over the trees- Annette didn't realize what it was at first. It was a wall of stone, statues, a cliff, all jumbled together- rising out of the ground. Higher, higher, higher still- reaching until it cast a shadow over them.

Annette unfastened her seat belt, opened the door and stepped outside in a trance, staring up at it. The road ahead began to shift. It was suddenly a hill, the trees grew taller, taller. Emma gave a little scream, half out of the car door. Annette stumbled over to her, the shifting incline made walking awkward. She reached Emma and seized her shoulders, hugging her tight. They both huddled by the car as a mountain grew above them.

Annette stared up at the imposing cliff wall, and remembered that behind all the glitter and glamour- behind even the illusion of power, and behind the cultivated image, in the end what parahumans had always done best was make her feel small.


	10. Creche 2-1

**{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

It was wet, and so dark.

Blind to everything but the path and flow of the water, for the first two seconds I was lost in a confused jumble, up was down, down was up, then right. I was spinning down the chute.

I tucked in my arms and legs and abandoned myself to the path of the pipe as I was washed down, and steeled myself through every painful bump against the walls.

My lungs burned.

The first time I surfaced, I spluttered and gasped, and coughed. I swallowed as much water as air. The second time I was dazed, black swimming in the corners of my eyes, and my hair in my face.

When the water finally slowed, I was half drowned, floating on top of the stream that was almost a river. I don't know how I ended face up and lived through that. Powers, maybe.

I floated to a stop on a gravel bank, and it was a few minutes before I gathered my wits, shook off my daze and sat up.

I hurt. I hurt, all of me.

I couldn't see much, but a beam of light filtered from high above. I had come to rest in a cavern, it was wide and open, the ceiling damp and dripping. Spires of stone stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

The cavern extended away in two directions, the cavern wall was separated into a maze of rocky ledges and smooth, water worn stone formations. Somewhere the rusted pipes and concrete had become a cave.

Under these, an empty expanse widened and widened until the flow was thin over the ledge into the dark bellow, I was lucky it became too shallow for me to float over the edge. I wasn't sure I was in Alchemilla any more, but that strange echo was still there. Labyrinth's power was still all around me, still active, still working. Stronger now, I thought… I might even be closer to her.

I gathered my legs under me and shivered, then stood up. I weaved a little on my feet, dizzy. Nauseous. I folded, my knees giving out under me and I fell to all fours in the water. I vomited up all the water I'd swallowed, until the heaves didn't bring anything more up.

I tried to stand again, and this time managed to keep my feet. I waded until the water was not around my knees anymore, but splashed with every step. The air was cool and moist, and raised goosebumps on my arms. Cold.

Where did I go now?

I stepped over to the wall, trailing my hand as a guide in the murk until I stood over the edge of the lethargic waterfall. Far below, the water turned to misty darkness. I knew the bottom had to be there, I could hear it. Water fell, water was everywhere.

A glance back the way I came. Then up, into the rocks and formations overhead. Labyrinth was well named, I'd never find my way through all of that.

I stopped and planted my feet. I pushed on my power, turned the dial up, flipped the switch, listened. I didn't have a target, didn't have a destination, so I simply set it loose, pulled back my filters and let it tell me what it did.

Labyrinth's power was still working, things were still moving.

Voices echoed in the cavern.

I stopped and listened, shouting. That sounded like… Regalia.

Well, he was the only person I knew that treated shouting like it was a conversational tone of voice. With that, I squared my shoulders and looked up, plotting a path up the stratum ledges. Up it was.

I gripped the lowest stone shelf, it was above chest level, and jumped up. I got my elbows over the rock and tried to pull myself up. After a few seconds of straining I started using my legs, feeling for a toehold.

As I kicked uselessly, my power filled in gaps, the location of the rock around me- then it surprised me. I started becoming more aware of my center of balance, or the way my arms were positioned, my leverage… The water on the rock, how slippery it was…

Awareness expanded, and I pulled myself up onto the ledge. Huh.

"Not so hard…"

The awareness remained. Weird. I'd used my power on myself before, but… not like that. Weird… but… I liked it.

I looked for another handhold, and pulled myself up. It wasn't easy, but… It was doable. I reached out for another handhold, pulled myself up. I was breathing hard, but I could see, just looking at them, which I could reach. Which I could pull myself up. How to go about it.

I scaled the rock wall with increasing ease. At the top my arms were shaking, and I was breathing hard, but it was more my being out of shape- I went right up the wall. I knew exactly where my fingerholds were, where I could brace myself, where I could wedge my fingers and toes to hold me. I was in complete control of my balance.

"Wow." I breathed, hands on my knees, "Wow." I started to laugh, then I really laughed. For the first time, using my power had left me… giddy. Really, truly giddy. That had been fun!

"I said quiet! I hear someone."

I stopped laughing, and turned. I didn't see anyone. The voice had been flat and mechanical. Basilisk.

I had that feeling again, the sensation of building, mounting. Labyrinth's power was accumulating again. There was a change coming. I took a step back from the drop.

I spotted Basilisk a moment later, she was poking her head out of one of the tunnels further back and was soaked to the skin, her hair was plastered to her neck and scalp and it looked black in the gloom. Her orange jumpsuit looked brown. "Oh. It's you." Basilisk squinted at me, which looked strange with the bulky, vented mask she wore.

I took a small step back as the walls rippled with bricks and leaves. Basilisk's eyes widened a moment before her face vanished in an emerging tree's branches.

"What-" I managed before I followed suit with a squawk.

The terraces and stratified cave wall were transforming, branches and leaves, emerging. Brick, stone, walls emerged from the floor in crumbled heaps.

I watched in wonder as the ruin of an old castle emerged from the walls all around me. Trees shot towards the sky, grass emerged from the stone and water in a wave of gold and green. A village, perched on a rocky landscape accented with long grasses and tall trees, but still inside the cave?

Was the cave natural, maybe a large room in Alchemilla before Labyrinth had changed it? Was there a limit to how much Labyrinth could effect the landscape, the… the layout of her worlds?

"Fuuuuuuuck!" Basilisk's metallic scream roused me as she tumbled through the canopy of a tree. She'd rode up some twenty feet toward the sky, this was complicated by the tree itself hanging over what was now a ten-foot drop. I jumped to try and reach her, catch her- a move that in retrospect was pointless. She was too far away, and anyway she had to weigh more than I did.

What was I going to do, cushion her fall?

Basilisk landed hard, but it was on a grassy patch- well, a muddy grassy patch. It barely resembled the sluggish river that it had been, and fortunately for her. Not far to fall, but far enough if she was less lucky. It was a very soft landing.

Picking my way across the rocks proved difficult. The tall grass was deceptive, hiding pitfalls in the crags. But it was getting easier to tell where. I wondered if it was because I was growing familiar to the world-changing nature of Labyrinth's power, or the world itself, something else.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

Basilisk was now almost entirely brown, with mud, and lying prone, glaring up at me from the shallow puddle she had fallen in.

"I'm not dead," She grit out, paused a beat and then continued more quietly, "I might have sprained my ankle."

She was really lucky, actually. The mud pit was in one of those crags in the ground. There were rocks on three sides. If she'd fallen just a little differently, she could have been seriously hurt.

I squatted at the edge of the pit, on the rock, and offered my hand. Basilisk hesitated, staring at it like it might bite her.

"Come on, I don't think it matters if I want to get muddy at this point." I said, "It's gonna happen."

Basilisk's brow furrowed a little, like my response was not the one she'd been expecting, but she reached up and took my hand-

 _-Induced mutagenic effect. Vector limited. Provokes uncontrolled tumorous alterations in biological organisms registering her voice-_

-and hauled her up and out.

It was interesting. Beside the hints pinging off her power, describing it and how it worked, I could also sense her center of balance, how she moved, and my own balance in relation. How wet the rocks were under my feet.

Basilisk took a wobbly step and I let go of her hand. I'd gotten her out, but now that I had her, I didn't know what to do with her.

"Hello?" I ventured, "You got swept down here too? By the water?"

Basilisk shrugged listlessly, "Yeah." She sighed, "That other guy too, he's here somewhere."

Other guy? Oh. Regalia, maybe. I glanced up the leafy cliff. The trees were still growing, taller and taller. High above, the cave ceiling was folding away into branches, sunlight filtered through the leaves. The borders of the cave were eroding into a larger space

I had no idea how to go about getting back. If things kept changing like this, maybe I couldn't.

"Do you want to look for a way back?" I asked, when I realized the silence had lingered just a bit too long, "Or… we could wait here for security to look for us."

"Labyrinth's worlds don't last. Everything always goes away when she goes to sleep."

That didn't really answer my question. Though maybe it kind of did. If the world would eventually fade away, then staying put made sense. Better than risking falling into those crags…

I gazed over at the moldering castle ruin. I hadn't been outside since arriving at Alchemilla, and the rocky landscape had a lonely, solemn beauty that would have arrested my attention even before four walls, a ceiling, and a floor became the extent of my world.

Basilisk sank to the stone, sitting and staring at her feet, "Might as well just sit here. I don't have anywhere to go."

After a moment, I sat down beside her. We waited.

I glanced at Basilisk.

Previously, my experiences with Mimi, Heather, Nick, and Charnel came to mind. But also, I remembered Benny, and Elephant. The horror and the heart-crushing fear, the smell of copper. I hesitated, I dithered. While my previous attempts making friends had been… well, not successful, but not disasters, I faltered.

Basilisk glanced at me, her eyes hooded. Where Nick had responded to me with caution, and Mimi with mercurial change, Basilisk was guarded. Considering. This only undermined my confidence, and I drew in my shoulders.

She looked at me, and she glared, "What's your power?"

I leaned back on the heels of my feet, trying not to show how intimidated I felt. That divot in benny's head lurked in a dark corner in the back of my mind. That feeling as I felt him ebbing, his body slowly shutting down, even as I struggled to help him. I swallowed, and clasped my hands to keep them from shaking.

"I- I- I- I feel things, I can touch them and I know things about them." I stuttered.

Basilisk stared at me, "Fucking figures." She stood, jumping to her feet. She started to pace, walking from one end of our shared rock to the other with quick, angry strides.

"Fucking Thinker, of course! I bet you'll get out. You'll get to go to prom and get a driver's license and become a doctor or a- a- whatever!" Basilisk growled. Or, it sounded like she was growling. It was hard to tell when she was Darth Vader.

I edged back, staring. My power was pinging danger, but only distantly. She was angry, sad, anxious, frustrated. Guilty?

"You'll find something. Be a fucking hero. What am I supposed to do? I can't use my power for anything!"

I concentrated, pulling off anything I could. She was taller than me, older than me. More solidly built. But…

She… she wasn't dangerous. She was… she was sane, I realized. Sane, but her power was deadly and had no off switch. She finished pacing and stopped, standing and staring off into the distance- I followed her gaze, the ruined castle.

Sane, but frustrated, and maybe dangerous. If her mask ever came off, if anyone ever heard her voice. Had anyone ever heard her power? Probably. I felt, suddenly, a kind of kinship in her.

I hesitated to speak, but she was hurting. And I knew what that felt like.

"I killed people too." I said.

She stared at me a moment, then turned away angrily.

I sighed and looked away, out over the rocky field, the ruined walls. My gaze came to settle on the castle, the hollowed-out towers and the still standing keep with the trailing carpet of ivy and moss.

I fixed on that. In this hauntingly beautiful landscape, it stood out.

"Do you want to explore the castle?" I asked.

"Fuck off. I'm… going to look for that loud idiot." She paused, "Can't believe I said that."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Well, Basilisk said she did not want to explore the castle but I could feel her moving as I neared it, in an indistinct, distant way. Circling around in the crags… not moving further from me... Following me?

Was touching someone enough to gain awareness of where they were? I wondered if I'd been getting faster uptake from my powers since this strange, surreal episode began.

Especially compared to the initial confusion and obstruction. If felt like I might be.

I wandered across the crumbling pile of stone at the base of the outer wall there was a wide trench, I guess it was the moat? The castle drawbridge was just a collection of rotted timbers at the bottom of the now, but I forded the ditch it filled, and scaled the other side like a mountain goat… or maybe a cat… Something that scaled walls and moved over obstacles well. A fly or a lizard.

Okay. I was used to this. I could handle any weirdness Alchemilla threw my way. Up I went.

It was so quiet. With a landscape as barren and rocky, and wild as this I kept expecting wind, or the sound of birds crying lonely in the distance, or insects. But there was nothing, hardly a sound at all.

Inside the castle walls, I stopped and turned every which way, staring up at the ramparts and the… that was the right word, right?

The walls were half-collapsed, and the keep and towers were missing their roofs, there were no doors across the Keep's broad threshold. There were trees and bushes growing all among the stones, one tower was crowned with trees, and the courtyard was cast into shadow. Flowers waved among the grass on the walls, white, yellow. Red and blue.

And I was not alone.

Charnel sat in a gently sunken bay, surrounded by long grass and flowers, a few paces in front of where the Keep's front gate might have stood. The courtyard was ringed with the roots of toppled pillars worn smooth by the elements. She was asleep, her silver-white hair gathered in a long rope that trailed to her feet- I hesitated to wake her, but even as I stood there she lifted her head.

"Ah. I must've drifted off." She blinked slowly. Her eyelids still had that blacken-eyed heavily bagged look, all the blood vessels standing out under her perfectly white skin.

"Hi."

"Hello, again, Taylor." Those strange segmented fingers clacked lightly as she folded her hands.

I stared at her a long moment, mulling over what Blake had said. She knows more than she lets on. A question nagged me, "What did you mean, what you said before, that we 'are swords and knives'?" I asked.

Charnal blinked again, she spoke very slowly and clearly, "It is the way of things."

Another of those slow, unsettling blinks, "We are made human by power. We surpass humanity, by power. And by power, we lose our humanity again. The power will rule you. It rules all of us. It is the way of things."

I puzzled on that, "Doctor Selmy tells me to not let my power rule me, change who I am." I said, "A parahuman is a human with a power. Not a power with a human."

"And yet we are chosen by power." Charnel replied, "And we are here because we were overcome by it. We did not possess it, so it possessed us in turn. As we do not possess it, we cannot leave. Those with power can do anything."

I frowned. That sounded familiar.

A sat down beside Charnel, and looked around the courtyard. The sky was opening up above the towers, in every direction, great walls of layered and marbled stone. It was like being at the bottom of a massive canyon, or a crater.

Labyrinth's power was… I'd heard of parahumans working on a scale like this, as profoundly as this. But to see it in action… Was she effecting the entire Alchemilla compound? This had to cover miles.

And, it was beautiful. Bleak and beautiful and grand; peaceful, stark and empty.

I could see hanging terraces of flowers and trees. Cathedral walls, their windows gone, leaving behind a latticework of empty clerestory. Statues, great hands and faces weathered by rain and wind. A ruined village on the canyon wall just below the castle walls, trees growing out of the houses. A bell tower. Huge walls, like small cliffs themselves. An enormous tree, like a forest unto itself.

And high, high above the canyon walls I saw the incongruous trail of an airplane passing through the clouds.

I wondered how the staff would deal with a situation like this. I followed that thought further and wondered how the patients would react. This would sow complete chaos-

Oh no. Sveta.

Sveta… was a sweet girl, and didn't deserve the problems she had to deal with.

But the power she had did make her dangerous, despite her nature and intentions. If these changes continued… if they were as widespread and profound as they were now, and if they continued to change and expand…

She would get out, might already be out. She was a voluntary patient, she understood how dangerous her power was, but it operated without her input.

"I need to find Labyrinth!" I stood, then wondered what I expected to do.

Charnel stared at me, blinking slowly. "I do not know where she is."

I stared up at the canyon walls, at the castle ramparts and the ruined town bellow it, and I reached, feeling out the ebb and flow of Labyrinth's world. I could feel it.

"I don't either, but I bet I can find her."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

It was difficult. I hadn't met Labyrinth to begin with, and the world she created made sensing my surroundings difficult. But the arrangement of her valley was a basin, and I was not yet at the lowest point.

I guessed she would be there, in the very lowest point, in the center. The castle overlooked the town, there, the town filled the bottom in a tangle of stone and leaves. It was difficult to gauge its size looking at it, as a forest encroached too heavily. Though the ground was not level at any point, a gorge cut deeply across my path, I looked for a way across.

I followed the slope down, until it became a path and I was looking at a covered stone bridge that crossed a gorge and passed into the town. It was heavy and supported by thick, square columns. I picked my way up the rocks, along a narrow trail, until I found myself inside. Inside, water flowed up over my ankles and feet. Cold. The bridge was an aqueduct.

"Huh." I shivered, that water had reminded me that I was wearing scrubs and not much else.

I followed the flow of the river, until the water opened out into a stone-lined pool and I waded out. My socks were soaked now, so I sat beside the pool, stripped them off and wrung them out, and examined my surroundings. The pool bordered one side of a wide plaza, maybe once a market, now grassy and broken with tree roots. Old swords rose among the weeds, stabbed into the ground, or lying fallen in the grass.

"Hello?" I called. I listened a moment, then breathed in, "Hello! Is anyone there?"

My shout was muffled in the silence of the town. It was like a blanket, smothering everything, even the sound of the water falling into the pool was muted. It was eerie.

I started walking, carefully picking my way over the plaza, through the timbers and rusty blades.

Inside the town, the streets were cobbled, but often broken by tree roots or covered in moss, or buried. The walls were stone, and covered in reaching ivy and moss. Wooden carts stood abandoned, and all was still and shadowed in dappled green under the walls and branches. Broken stone and brickwork was everywhere. The streets were narrow, and doorways so close, and even the plaza was small and confined. It was very claustrophobic, so that I could barely see the sky above me.

Leaving the plaza, I headed down, and soon I could sense I was not so alone. I smelled smoke.

"Can anyone hear me?" I called, not holding much hope of a reply.

I found a burning cart at the head of a stair. Still deeper into the heart of the town I found more signs of fire. Seared ivy. Smoldering wood. One of the houses was filled with flames.

Labyrinth's world started to take on a darker edge. The walls pressed in. The moss was replaced by sickly green algae dried and caked on the walls, and the plants grew sparser. The light faded until there was no sky overhead. I head water dripping again, and I had to watch my steps.

Then I found an open door, singed and knocked from rusted hinges. Once it had been covered with carvings and symbols worn down with time. I stepped beyond it, and everything opened up.

I was in a large room. A pillared foyer, I realized, dominated by a statue of a barefoot woman in a robe… Beyond the foyer was a chapel. Here there was light, cast by flickering torches sconced in the walls, and held by statues lining the walls, knights and more women in robes, and clustered above the altar.

"Um… hello?" I said, warily. The altar was a large plinth of stone on top of a small rise of steps, and a girl was seated on the altar. She… reminded me of Charnel, so colorless and still. But I could see her breathing…

There was a restful air about her as she sat, staring into space with her head tilted just so- like she was listening to distant music. Her eyes did not track me as I approached, and her hands stayed folded in her lap.

"Hello?"

I carefully moved up the steps. In the torchlight, her pallor and hair was cast in yellow and orange hues. Her scrubs were orange too, she almost looked like an orange statue herself, very out of place among the towering ones that flanked her. But serene, peaceful. She did not look dangerous.

She was… well, small.

Thin, with long, straight pale hair. A particular platinum blonde, almost white, colorless. Her skin was pale too. That particular pallor that Elephant also had, from living inside without much sun.

"Labyrinth?"

There was a _pulse_ in response to my voice, or maybe to the name. Not a big one- not a swell of power like the ones that had transformed Alchemilla so drastically. More like a shiver through the air and the stone. Like an echo of a distant thunderclap far away.

I shrank back and waited, holding my breath. But that was it, she didn't respond. She did not even move.

This girl had to be Labyrinth.

"Labyrinth?" I asked again, more quietly.

She was silent, and as the pulse did not come again, I reached out slowly, touched her shoulder.

"Laby-

Then, everything changed.

There was a spike of fear, of terror, from Labyrinth; so intense I felt it too and threw myself backwards. The world changed in a ripple, a wave gathering force as it moved out from her and into the world she had built that I could _feel_ as it passed me.

The statues and torches and stone altar were torn away, the changes filled in the space they had been- and plunged the world into darkness. I was blind, and disoriented. Turned around as everything rearranged itself. The smell of leaves and stone were replaced by a musty smell, damp, and rusted metal.

Light flickered on, harsh florescent lighting guttering out, then on again over my head. The church had transformed into a nightmare. Stains trailed down padded walls, chains and thick bundles of barbed wire hung from the ceiling in curtains; the floor was concrete, studded with barbs of broken glass and needles.

In the middle of it, Labyrinth sat on the floor, staring at me mutely. Flickering in and out of sight with the lights, pale like a ghost.

My heart hammered in my chest where I'd sprawled on the glass. I could feel warmth spreading down one arm- my leg- I'd cut myself.

And Labyrinth sat there, mutely staring at me.

"Uh… Hi." I said, "Um. You scared me."

Labyrinth said nothing.

"I… I guess I scared you too." I added, "Sorry." I picked myself back up, carefully not taking my eyes off Labyrinth. But apart from that first outburst of power, she… well, she _seemed_ fairly calm. I thought. It was hard to tell.

"So, uh. Hello." I stood, still looking at her, "The doctors call me Auspice."

Labyrinth blinked once.

"Um, call me Taylor?"

Labyrinth shrank back when I raised my hand. Her hands fisted in her scrubs so tightly her shoulders were shaking.

"Oh… oh, hey…"

Labyrinth shrank back when I stepped forward again, and I offered my hand, palm up, talking very quietly. "It's okay… It's okay."

Labyrinth stopped shaking, and stared back at me, but now I didn't know what to say. "Um. I actually came looking for you." I said, "You don't know how to turn, uh, all this off, do you?"

Labyrinth stared at me, for a moment her mouth opened like she was about to speak, but aborted the action without a sound.

"You can't talk?"

She just stared back at me, blinking slowly.

"Okay." That was problematic, but hardly her fault, "Well, I can't sleep. We're both special like that." If Labyrinth couldn't turn it off, I was stuck.

I… I could try knocking her out… I glanced at her, sitting there looking at me, trusting. No, I didn't think that was an option. Not yet anyway. Right now, I didn't know for certain that she had done anything beyond inconveniencing the staff. I hoped.

Besides, forcibly knocking her out might not actually shut off the effect she had on the asylum, powers didn't have to make sense like that.

And… the memory of copper leapt to mind once again before I relentlessly thrust it down and away. No, not risking that.

"Well, we really need to get out of here. Try and find one of the doctors. Can you walk?" Labyrinth did not move at first, there was an aborted motion in her hands, "I can help you up, if you don't mind?"

I stood and reached out, and this time Labyrinth didn't shy away. I took that as a good sign, and took her hand-

 _-Creation. Crafts dimensional pockets. Imposes their shape on surroundings. Sculpting. Two threads of consciousness, one manages her worlds, one manages her body. Uneven distribution, fluctuates between-_

"Oh, sorry." I blinked, "Zoned out there for a bit. My power kind of reads off people when I touch them, I guess I should have said something."

Labyrinth blinked.

Right, so now I had Labyrinth, where did I take her from here? I looked at the flickering lights, and the chains and rusty wire. The jagged barbs on the floor. The room was square and a hatch closed off one end of the room. It was so heavily rusted I doubted I would be able to open it.

I gave it a try, grabbing the latch and tugging on it once.

"Can… can you change it back to the castle? It was easier to walk."

Labyrinth blinked back at me and… I felt something. The flagstones and torches did not return however. Instead the hatch crumbled away into dust, rusting away in an instant.

"Oh. Okay, thanks." I managed, "That works."

I blinked at a sudden tug. Labyrinth had latched on, one hand fisted on my sleeve. Still no expression on her face that I could place, but she was tense.

"Is everything okay?" Her shoulders were shaking again, "It's all right…"

Strange, the world had completely transformed, but I could still smell smoke.


	11. Creche 2-2

**{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}**

 **(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ**

Outside was a hallway with a single lightbulb flicking on my right, far into the distance. A cool breeze brushed against my face as well. The floor was bare, stained concrete, black and rusty red, and had an oily sheen. Mercifully, we left behind the needles and glass in the padded room, where they glinted in the corners.

After stepping out of the rusted hole, I stopped and took a proper grip on Labyrinth's wrist. I had a firm respect for what her power did now, and I didn't want either of us to get lost.

Despite my conviction and resolve, the gloom made me pause, one hand trailing over the wall, Labyrinth still holding my other sleeve. A trickle of moisture ran down the middle of the hallway, splashing sullenly as I took a hesitant step towards the light. A chain brushed my head and I jumped. Looking up didn't help the ceiling overhead was indistinct shadow, filled with rattling pipes and chains gently swaying in the breeze; the breeze that still brushed my face, still carried that distant smell of smoke.

Occasionally there were gaps, dark wire-toothed openings in the concrete framed with rusted metal and sharp mesh with holes pushed through them, or metal grills covering openings. Windows or doorways, or sometimes places concrete had crumbled away, and under it was rusted wire, which was twisted into jagged ends that hooked and cut open the palm of my hand.

"Ah."

That hurt.

Labyrinth didn't seem aware I'd been hurt, at first. Hell, I could barely see my hand in that light. Then I felt a pulse of her power, washing over the walls. I stopped and waited for it to subside before tentatively probing with my hand, I found the wall smooth where it had been sharp.

So, she was in there somewhere. It was easy to forget, "Huh, thanks."

I wondered if that took effort. How much control did she actually have? She was smoothing back the barbs here, but, I didn't think she had consciously put them there to begin with. I had to wonder if making it less dangerous here meant that her power would make it more dangerous elsewhere.

We reached the flickering light to find it was a four-way intersection in the hall, with crumbled concrete on the flickering light. There were no other lights to be seen. I turned in a circle but each direction was the same and I was lost, I was lost in this place and it was pathless, aimless, and murky.

Deep breath, take stock. I still had the breeze on my face. I could navigate with that and tell where I was in relation to the padded room. I thought some more, and touched on that sense of elsewhere.

Basilisk- I spoken to her, touched her, but Labyrinth's power had reset my perceptions. To my surprise, I could still sense her, vaguely. I looked for more- senses of direction and familiarity. I'd talked to Heather, walked around with her, had a group meeting with her- and a vague sense of direction lingered. No exactly a sense of her, or Nick. They were… more like… a 'that way' with a wave of a hand. That's what it felt like.

Doctor Yamada, Doctor Selmy, I was more familiar with them but they might have been further away… it was hard to tell? Mimi I could sense a little, and I'd only talked to her once and never actually touched her, so that was a little strange.

Maybe it was because I was touching Labyrinth? Could that impact my ability to sense through her interference? Sense people caught inside her range? I glanced at Labyrinth, standing mutely by my side, hand still fisted in my sleeve and my own hand a firm grip on her wrist as well.

 _-Fear, despair, resentment, sentiment. Conceptual shaping. Nature of creation formed by underlying ideas and emotions. Determines form, function. Created dimensional impression altered by mental state-_

"Okay." I breathed, "Okay, just need to find a way out of here… we got this." I gave her a smile, and I could feel how it helped a bit.

I decided to head straight. Keep the wind at my face, use that as a reference. I started moving, tugging Labyrinth along behind me, and after a few false, stumbling steps, she followed.

"So… Uh, I never really got to be a hero or make a costume or anything. Getting powers was kind of messy for me."

Labyrinth didn't say anything.

"… What was it like for you? I mean… I've been talking through it, and I think parahumans getting powers isn't fun in general? I've never been clear on that, it varies. I know it wasn't fun for me." We came to another intersection, I turned right, following the wind. I glanced at Labyrinth. She was still completely silent, but she was looking at me and blinked back slowly. I took it as a good sign.

I kept talking, filling up the silence. "I read a lot, because I don't sleep anymore. A lot about powers and stuff online. It's called a trigger event, when we get our powers. There's all kinds of theories about how it works. Some of them are really crazy."

"You know, there's a theory that parahumans with worse trigger events are stronger?" I glanced up at the barbed wire and chains, "Because I'm wondering what yours was."

Was this how she saw Alchemilla? Her power... What I read off- it shaped her worlds; she imagined them, and it based them around her emotions, it filled in the blanks. She hated it here, so it made her world an ugly, hateful place, which made her hate it more, which made it uglier. And so on.

I wondered how she made her beautiful ruin, what it meant to her. What it signified.

We passed another room, brightly lit and padded, with brown stains on the walls... Another, a shower room with all the fixtures torn out, grimy mirrored windows lined a level above the showers, looking down on the stalls.

"Is it like this, for real?" I asked. I glanced at Labyrinth, her head was bowed, shoulders pulled in. "I guess it doesn't matter. It is for you, isn't it?"

It was, wasn't it?

My train of thought trailed off, the hall opened up into a room. Collapsed shelves covered with dust and loose papers, cabinets with almost all their doors missing. The few that remained hung open from a single hinge. There were lights but they were dim, sickly discolored florescent tubes that cast everything in shadows, and another doorway leading into another room loomed on the far side of the room, dark and ominous and empty. It was a dark room. A deep-seated hind brain instinct held that dark rooms held bad things.

I took an experimental step into the mess, poking at the papers. There were folders mixed in with it all. File folders. Loose pages and graphs and diagrams and tables with a lot of jargon I could not make heads or tails of. What a mess.

I maneuvered Labyrinth to a collapsed shelf and sat her down before turning my attention to the contents of the shelf all around us. I squatted down and gingerly tugged a folder out. Case Number, it read. I opened it and skimmed the first page…

Vironic? I picked up another. Hearthstone. Another, Storm Eagle. They were patient records. This was an archive. I sat, cross-legged, and started picking through them.

Were these real, or where they reproductions based on Labyrinth's shaped world? Or maybe there was bleed-through? Were these actual patient records, or some kind of fantastical embellishment from watching too many horror movies? Both? Neither? Would her power fill in with something real if she hadn't thought of it, leave it in as long as it still filled the general theme? Did it matter?

I sighed.

Labyrinth sat on the cabinet, kicking her feet a little in the dust, arms crossed over her stomach.

"Is... Is this your power too?" I asked, "All... this?"

Labyrinth stopped scuffing her feet in the papers, but said nothing, just looked at me. I sighed.

"I always imagined getting powers to be this big moment. When I stopped being boring me, and became something more interesting." I said, a little sullen, "Not being stuck here...I wanted to be a hero. Emma and I, we used to pretend we were heroes, had powers. That we could fly. Mom and... and Dad, took me out to the big Protectorate events, and I got to meets Wards."

"I really wish I could fly..." I sat, silent for a while.

"Last time I saw Emma and Mom was right after the hospital. They were seeing me off because I killed someone, by accident. That's why I'm here."

"But I'm wondering if I had it good. In a way." I glanced at Labyrinth, she was still looking at me, "I guess whatever gave you your powers, that never really ended. Something terrible happened, and it didn't really end, it just... it changed shape. So you're like this, and every day is a reminder of it." I thought about Sveta.

"I actually heard about you from another patient, Mimi. Burnscar?" I said, and smiled, "You're friends, right?"

There was a shiver in her power, and a complicated impression of emotions. I tried to decipher that for a moment, "I've been trying to make friends here, at Alchemilla. There's Heather and Nick, in my wing. I guess Charnel sort of counts too? I had another friend too, but... one of the other patients killed him. I know I'd give a lot to have Emma here, to be able to talk to her. She's my best friend."

Labyrinth stared down at her feet. I could feel a vague knot of resentment, frustration, and sadness all kind of confused together. It was interesting, to try and sense using only my power. My eyes wandered to the walls, where fabric was gradually emerging over the concrete, over the ceiling, over the pipes. The padded room again. The barbed wire and chains were back, snaking through the seams.

"...Your power is a lot like Mimi's. You both have these... spirals. Spirals of negativity. Your emotions feed it, and it just gets worse. And it comes out here, and it becomes ugliness... that's so sad..."

"But... Your other world..." I brightened, "Your other world, with the castle, that was beautiful! It felt wonderful to see the sun again, to be outside!"

I turned towards her and settled my legs facing her, elbows on my knees, "Did Mimi like to see your other world?" I asked.

That was the wrong thing to say, and Labyrinth hunched in, eyes going to the ground, her feet drew in, her knees went to her chest, and her eyes squeezed shut.

"Are- are you okay?"

Labyrinth rocked a little, and I stood, stepping over to her. I could sense...

 _-anger, frustration, sorrowsaddnesshollow-_

-I had no idea what to do about any of it. But I knew someone who would have, so I did what Mom would have done, hugged her.

"It's okay, shh... It's okay..."

Labyrinth tensed, then leaned into it. I...well, I didn't really know what to do next. I ran a hand in circles on her back, let her stay there. Her shoulders hitched. She was crying? I let her stay like that, until she stopped shuddering, and pulled back. Was it my imagination, or did she look a little more... There? With it? Aware?

"You okay?"

Labyrinth didn't say anything, but that was okay. I let her breathe a bit. Maybe she just needed more contact with people? How many visitors did she get in Special Containment? Speaking of breathing... I coughed. The smell of smoke was almost overpowering. In the terrible lighting, everything looked ashy and grey. The air was growing hazy with smoke. Was it just me, or was it getting worse?

A little flame appeared on the ruin of a desk, appeared and snuffed out. A few papers crumpled and shrivled brown.

I grabbed Labyrinth and pulled her away, up to the wall, ready to run.

There was a sense of other-place. This wasn't Labyrinth's world at work, the real asylum was on fire? Or, trying to be... If the real asylum was on fire, but Labyrinth's world was not, would it burn? Would we even see it before it was too late? My mind raced, possibilities and unknowns. What about the air? Big fires sucked all the oxygen out of the air!

The fires were not spreading, simply appearing in little flares all across the room before they died out, embers drifting in the air. It was mesmerizing, and after I got over the initial shock, beautiful in a way.

"Is this your power too?" I breathed.

"She... See." Labyrinth whispered. It was halting and unsure, and a little rough, rusty like she wasn't used to talking, like her mouth and tongue were treacherous.

I slowly turned my head to her, and stared, "You can talk?" I asked.

Labyrinth opened her mouth and for a moment I thought she'd say something, her throat worked, but she closed her mouth again without speaking.

"You... You don't talk? Can't talk?"

Labyrinth looked at me, "Talk." She said.

I felt a distant sense of-

 _-hurt, frustrated, sadness, despair-_

"Sorry, sorry." I breathed, "Come on. I didn't mean it like that." Looking at Labyrinth, I thought... Maybe she was emerging from the fugue, a little. She seemed a bit more aware now- holding my gaze steadily, her hands moving to fist in front of her chest.

"Hey." I whispered, "You okay?"

"M-Mimi's angry." Labyrinth said, with effort, face red. Huddled into herself, her feet together at the toes so her legs bowed. She was quivering head to foot, and her gaze was on the ground. "...threw her o-out. N-now...'s sad."

She... Mimi? "You threw her out?"

"Out." Labyrinth nodded slightly, mouth twitching, until she reached some threshold and managed to speak again, "Yelled...me. She c-couldn't see." She struggled around the words thickly for while, before blurting out, "Sky."

She...oh, okay. I blinked and leaned back, opening up my power and letting the influx take me for a moment, my inner voice talking, filling in the gaps.

Labyrinth made worlds, could eject people from her worlds. Mimi mentioned visiting her, back in the cafeteria... he power drove her to emotional highs and lows...

Mimi had been in Alchemilla for four years. Labyrinth's power allowed the illusion of being out, of being free. What would that have been like for Mimi? She would have been ecstatic, but that would have it's own dangers. The excitement, with a power like Mimi's... Mimi could have flared up, shouted, had an emotional swing.

And Labyrinth cut her off, threw her back into the asylum. Burnscar could see the outside, the sky, and Labyrinth took that from her. "Sky."

Maybe she was frightened, maybe Mimi... Maybe she had gotten violent... But I remembered how the sky had looked, overhead, after the cave opened up; and I remembered Mimi had been in Alchemilla for four years, four long years.

"That's cruel." I said. I didn't think I'd said it with much heat until I looked at Labyrinth, and she shrank back.

"N- n- n-." she stuttered until she stalled out and fell silent. She was afraid.

"It's... It's okay, I'm not angry," I said, "But, aren't you her friend?"

Labyrinth looked away.

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose, then pulled Labyrinth into a one-armed hug where we sat against the wall. She stiffened, and gave a little gasp, but didn't pull away and I could feel the grateful swell of emotion that followed.

"This place makes me tired." I said, breathing and meaning every word.

The fires continued to flicker on the edges and fringes. Was that Mimi's handiwork? I wasn't sure how her power interacted with Labyrinth's, how damaging one world would effect the other, or how fire spread across from one world to another or... I was struck with a strange dissonance, an echo of one place in another. My power hinted at energy cascading in, erupting from a bottomless source...

"So, Mimi, Burnscar, she is doing this?" I managed after a beat, pointing to the lights, the flames, "Wait, she's here? Now?"

"Burn." Labyrinth said. Right.

"Okay."

I only met her once, and I didn't know her very well. But, I leaned back, resting the back of my head against the wall and closing my eyes, I could sense her, she was nearby. ...Probably.

"She said you were her only friend." I said, "But... You don't like her?" I opened my eyes.

Labyrinth's eyes didn't rise from a fixed spot on the floor, the set of her shoulders and her lowered gaze, drawn back and in. "She... Yells." She said it slowly, carefully, like each word took some effort, but it was perfectly clear this time, no stuttering or dropping words.

I frowned, an idea was forming. "Can you sense things in your world, where she is? Wait, no, you said you threw her out..." Labyrinth didn't say anything, and I could feel her frustration. "I want to try and find her, I want to talk to her," I said, "I'm going to talk to her." I said it before I'd decided, but in saying it my resolve stiffened.

Labyrinth looked up and stared. Then, she reached up and tapped my chin with her finger. I felt it coming, a shifting in her power, and jerked back, startled. Even so, the world settled in a way I couldn't define, details falling into place, skewed, except this was how they really were.

The light had changed, the walls were not concrete, instead they were covered with scorched wood paneling, the floor was covered in soaked carpet. The smoke thickened and blacked, and became acrid; the storm of burning papers was gone. There were no chains or barbed wire overhead, it was raining down water, dispensed by a network of sprinklers instead. The room was seared and blacked. The lights left in its wake flickered fitfully, weakly, but the light cast through the doorway was brighter, and flickered orange.

I could hear the distant wail of a fire alarm, and the crackle of the fire. I took it all in with darting eyes and turned back to Labyrinth, bewildered with water running down my face. But she just let go of my chin and leaned back, staring mutely back at me.

How did it work? Was she some kind of constant, present in both worlds, and able to move through one or the other at will? Tune a world in or out? "Uh. Thanks?"

Labyrinth stared at me, unblinking as the sprinklers rained down on her.

"Um. Okay. Stay here, I'll go looking for her. I'll be back." I gave her my best reassuring smile, but Labyrinth did not smile back.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The records room was a burnt out husk, everything was reduced to cinders that left black soot behind at a touch, the skeletons of metal filing cabinets, a fine coating of ash, and it was all still warm. Despite the water pouring down, it was still warm. I followed the line of an aisle between cabinets through a frame with hinges but no door any more. Outside was a hallway, but not concrete, and no dark holes covered with sharp mesh- there was fire-frosted glass and charred wood. It looked like it had been windows looking in on a cubicle farm.

By now I had no idea what route had brought us from the cell to the records room, it was all twisted up in the riddle of Labyrinth's world, and I wasn't even close to deciphering that.

The fire was still smoldering here, and I walked down the hall wondering if I'd stop and look at another pile of charred wood and wire and realize it had been a person. But even as I wondered that, I realized the char was giving way to unburnt wood again. The sprinklers were still running, but I reached out and touched the paneled wood, leaving a sooty handprint behind to be washed away in the spray.

I turned a corner and another line of windows, and neat rows of offices behind them; There was a fire still burning here, behind the glass, the leaping flames drew my eyes immediately; because of this, I was paying attention when the wall exploded. A burst of steam and smoke and fire- I was knocked over on my back and lay stunned until I realized my sleeve was on fire, my hair too, and I rolled frantically away from the conflagration, stifling the flame. Suddenly, everywhere the wood was blackening and smoking.

I didn't really feel any pain, but maybe that was the adrenaline, and I panted as my heart thundered in my ears. The temperature was blistering, a draft of heat and force hitting my face, like shoving my face in an oven, my hair slicked to my forehead with sweat. I could feel my sweat drying and my skin tightening as I fought for space with the unforgiving heat. "Okay. Okayokayokay." I whispered, "We're okay, don't worry. We are. Fine."

A twinge, from my arm, where I'd caught fire. Ah, there it was, the pain. I gasped, huddling around my arm, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes. I sobbed. My arm was a mess; the skin was broken, the sleeve was mostly gone and left the skin angry red and bloody or blistering from my wrist past my elbow, the fabric had actually melted to my skin all across my shoulder. My ribs were burnt too, a little. I'd scar.

The smoke was getting thicker, I coughed and the act of coughing sent pain across my ribs and up my arm.

I was so not okay. So not okay.

I scooted back, away from the flames, crawling one painful foot at a time.

And in the middle of it suddenly there was a girl. She appeared in a flash of fire, and started throwing fireballs at the shelves, shrouded in flames and steam. I didn't recognize her at first, blinking slowly as I caught up to the dark hair and face and scars, and that nagging prompt of familiarity from my power. And then I did and the sight was worse for it. She was Mimi.

She was on fire. Wreathed in fire. And all around her the office was on fire. The carpet smoked and steamed, and where she stepped it burned and grew in spite of the water, and grew and spread. And when a sodden scrap of paper, caught in the energy of her inferno, slapped across her face and stuck, it instantly flared, crumpled into ash, and blew away.

She threw a fireball, and it crashed into a cabinet, another into a desk, sending tumbling. Papers thrown into the air flared into fire all around her.

Mimi stopped, staring at it, her eyes were glowing now, shining like headlights on a car, expression flat. She lowered her hands, and her eyes flared brighter and brighter still, the futile efforts of the sprinkler system made no headway against her flames- she was bolstering them, fanning them with her power. Where the flame might have guttered on the wet wood, under the pouring water, it flared brighter to match her eyes. Brighter. Hotter. I watched, silent and speechless as she walked through the ruined cabinets, the fire building and growing in her wake unnaturally where she sowed it.

My power's voice cataloged it, told me. As long as she was bolstering her flames, they wouldn't go out. They would burn and burn without fuel until she let them subside.

... She hadn't seen me. I... Didn't want to go out there. I swallowed.

There was something... primal about it, inexorable. A wildfire incarnate. The efforts of the sprinkler system were utterly inadequate, compared to Mimi's power, I wasn't even sure it was meaningfully slowing her flames.

Through the pain, I felt curiously calm. It was strange, because I'd been so nervous, trying to talk to Basilisk. Now, lying here, I was already past that, and it left me serene. Mimi had already hurt me, I accepted it. A dim awareness was taking hold over my pain-numbed mind, I understood now, why Wayland Lars had been so frightened, why the other doctors didn't really talk about her. But in thinking that, the spell was broken and I took a shaking breath, shivering and hitching with the effort.

The fire was still expanding. I needed to move. I could feel the heat through my socks...

I toyed with the idea of standing up before I made the attempt.

It hurt.

It hurt more than I thought it would, more than I imagined anything could hurt, I shrieked when I let go of the wall and took my first limping step, the effort left me gasping with my good hand on my knee, my burned arm hanging limp by my side. The smoke made my eyes water even more. I tried to take a step, and had to catch the wall to keep from toppling. Black was swimming, narrowing my vision every time I breathed in or moved my arm.

"Taylor?"

I looked up. Mimi was standing a few feet away, still standing in the fire, her hair whipping around her face. Other than that, she was pristine, no indication that she was even in the same room as that inferno. Her eyes were still glowing, like two orange coals, but now they were wide with surprise. My curious serenity remained, and I attempted to smile through the pain.

"Hey Mimi." I said.

She gave a little gasp, I was surprised I could hear it.

"Oh... Oh my... My g- Taylor!"

With a gesture, the fire between us parted. A sweeping motion with both hands and it simply went out, leaving charred black, but no flame. Mimi stepped to me, reaching out and hesitating. Maybe worried she'd hurt me more.

Or expecting me to draw back, fear her.

Well, I was afraid, but being afraid seemed pretty pointless now, I thought, and held out my good hand. This proved to be a bad idea, as my hand had been rested on the wall, holding me up. I kind of fell against the wall, which pulled a short scream out of me; Mimi immeadiatly leapt into action. She ducked under my good arm and half carried, half dragged me back the way I'd come.

By now I felt like I was half floating, and the dark was filling th corners of my vision, pressing in cnstantly, eating the world up. I realized I was barely awake and fading fast.

"Tay- oh Taylor, I'm... I'm so-"

"Mimi," I grit through my teeth, "You didn't mean it. It's okay."

I was surprised how much I meant it too... Things were a lot simpler when you were barely awake.

Breathing was difficult, both because of the pain in my ribs and arm, and because of the smoke. I was coughing constantly now. But Mimi didn't seem to have a problem with it as she half carried me, my feet dragging now. Mimi fretted and mumbled the whole way. I didn't bother counting doorways, or any other means of tracking where I was, and I think I passed out for some of it because suddenly I was in a room filled with washing machines and Mimi was fumbling with a first aid kit.

I lifted my head, groaning with the effort, and startling Mimi so she dropped the kit. She fiddled with the contents while I looked around.

("Oh no, it's not sterile now! Is there... is there any more-")

It looked like a laundromat, several rows of washing machines and a wall of enourmous industrial size tumble dryers. Cheap linolium tiles and concrete walls. A couple of laundry carts full of sheets. Shelves full of plain brown boxes and detergents in the back, and a mop sink. I'd been laid on a countertop, one hastily cleared by Mimi, if the clutter of boxed soapflakes and linens littering the floor was any clue. My arm and side were packed with towels soaked with cold water.

But, what was most interesting to me was Labyrinth, seated on a chair staring at me, kicking her feet slowly back and forth and blinking.

"Hi." I said, tiredly.

"Hi." Labyrinth parroted back.

"Oh!" Mimi returned, arms full of bandages and tubes of creams, "T-Taylor! I found, Elle, and, um..."

"Where is this?" I asked.

"Its, it's specialized containment's laundry room, I think." Mimi said, "Is it just your arm and feet? Are you burned anywhere else?"

I hadn't realized my feet where burnt, "My ribs."

Mimi glanced at my shoulder, over my arm, "Um, I'm going to need to cut your shirt off, okay?" She held up a pair of really meaty scissors.

"I-" I raised my head and was immediately reminded why I didn't have the strength to run away or fight her off, "Go ahead." I sighed.

Mimi started by pulling me up into a sitting position, then sitting behind me on the counter and propping me up when I almost fell, before running the scissors up my back to my collar. That hurt. The towels had been laid mostly on unbroken skin, but some of the blisters had popped and the damp skin unerneith stuck to the fabric. After she opened my shirt, she trimmed any loose scraps of fabric still attached to the sleeve. I thought the shoulder would stymie her, but she only paused to tug, gently and delicately, at the edges before abandoning it.

"I don't know how to pull out fabric melted to skin yet," She mumbled, "Sorry." I was very grateful she didn't try.

Next I lay back down, on my good side, and put on a pair of gloves from the first aid kit. She started dabbing my arm with cream from a tube from the kit, cleaning it.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." She whispered as I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

Her fumbling aside, her actions were practiced, rote. She understood what she was doing, even if she hadn't done it often. "I've had some classes..." she mumbled, when I asked. I imagined with powers like hers she must have a lot of experience treating burns. She bandaged the broken skin, wrapped it loosely; then smeared cream on my whole arm, on my ribs. My power informed me of infection fighting qualities, of pain soothing compounds.

She rubbed down some red marks on my feet that were probably first degree burns but paled in comparison to the ones on my arm, and a couple spots on my back that were probably from landing on live cinders, I hardly even felt that part. After she finished my feet, she pulled a fresh shirt from on of the drying machines for me to slip on over what remained, and a pair of hall slippers.

"Sorry," Mimi mumbled.

"It's all right." I said, sitting up. It... was a bit easier, Mimi was actually pretty good. Or maybe I'd just been in that much pain. I took a deep breath, and it put tears in the corners of my eyes, I coughed, "Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Mmm." She fidgeted, "That's all I can do. You need a real Doctor."

I glanced at Labyrinth, who was still sitting on the chair, still stareing at me, "All right. Labyrinth, do you know how to turn off your power?"

Labyrinth didn't say anything, just sat and stared back. I tried reading off her, but the result was... cloudy. I didn't think she could, exactly. Not all at once.

"Her name's Elle..." Mimi muttered, and fidgited when I looked at her, "She, um, doesn't really like Labyrinth either."

"Oh." I glanced at Elle, there was a faint sensation of gratitude, familiarity, kinship. Elle blinked back at Mimi, then turned to me, fisting her hands in her pant legs. Still that complicated tumble of emotions. I gave her a reassureing smile, "Hello Elle."

I looked at Mimi, remembering my origional mission, "Everyone else is still in her world, right?"

Mimi looked lost, "Everyone else?"

"She's effecting, well, probably all of Alchemilla right now." I said, "I was getting out of group therepy when everything started transforming."

Mimi's eye widened, "Um, yes. Uh. When she has really bad days sometimes the Doctors would give her something to make her slep, that made it shut off."

"Well." I glanced at Elle, "I guess we both need doctors then."

I groaned, then gingerly levered myself onto my feet. Mimi fluttered anxiously. "Let's go find some Doctors." I said, then coughed, "Give me a hand? I can walk... Just, not very fast."


	12. Creche 2-3

**{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Mimi walked on one side, I limped along on the other, Elle between us, one hand in each of ours.

The laundry room was adjacent to a shower room. With a bit of squinting, I recognized the same shower room from Elle's world of barbed wire and rusty concrete. The floors and walls were tiles now, a bland pale teal, instead of naked concrete, but the looming observatory windows remained, staring down on the bathers with mirrored glass.

There were a few fixtures still intact, but holes where others had been.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"The old asylum." Mimi replied, and then looked a little uncomfortable, "It's... Um, the parts of the hospital that used to be there, before Alchemilla was used for parahumans. Some of it's still used? Um, I used to come down here sometimes, when Elle was new. She used to turn the whole place into a castle, or a beach..." Mimi smiled faintly, wistfully.

I directed a glance at Elle. She also had a little smile. Good memories, then.

We moved on.

The floors were mostly rubber here. I was beginning to suspect it had been patient housing. It fit with the presence of the shower room. Lots of rooms lined the hall, with little windows and numbers over them. It was clean, but clearly hadn't seen regular use in some time. The lights were all out, except for emergency lighting, and there was a bit of dust. Not like it was abandoned, but like it got swept once every other week, or something.

Here and there were clearer signs of lack of regular habitation- a missing tile in the floor with dust caught in the missing space. A hole in the wall that hadn't been patched. A bit of extra dust gathered and left in the corners. We crossed an intersection of halls, and one end was roped off with spools of yellow hazard tape. Then we were at a bank of elevators. Mimi ignored the elevators completely and went right for the stairs. Small surprise, the button panel was torn out. I wondered if that was why Mimi and Elle stopped coming down here, or if it was something else...

We started up the stairs, but after two flights I had to take a break, my arm throbbing and white spots danceing before my eyes. Elle sank to the floor the moment I let go of her hand, and just sat there staring into space. Mimi hugged her arms to herself and tried to avoid looking at me. I leaned lightly against the wall, with my sleeve stuffed in my mouth while I tried not to cry. I still whimpered a little into my sleeve. Be the brave girl. Be the hero. Heroes don't cry. Heroes don't cry.

"Why'd you stop coming?" I managed, trying to get my breathing under control.

Mimi looked away, running her hands up and down her arms, "I lost my temper." she said.

That could mean a lot of things, but I think I guessed what she intended. I looked at Elle, but she was blank, staring at the wall. "You used your power?"

"It...I..." Mimi stuttered, tucked her hair behind an ear, nervous, before speaking, "I wanted to escape."

I blinked. "Escape?"

"I... I could see the sky," Mimi said, "I could have made it, I can fly... Sort of. I could have done it. I wanted Elle to come with me." Like a switch was thrown, Mimi was shouting, "But... But she wanted to stay here! Stay here even though she hates it! And the Doctors are assholes! And she hates it!"

Mimi's head snapped up. Her eyes glowed, and smoke rose from her feet, scorching sooty marks on the stairwell.

And just as suddenly, her anger was gone, and she was tearful, "And, and then I- I burned Elle. And she threw me out." Mimi hung her head, "Oh god, I'm sorry Elle."

I glanced at Elle's missing sleeve and the welt on her wrist. The angry red burn, the blisters rising. The shape of a hand print scorched there.

"I burned you too, Taylor. I'm so sorry." Mimi was rocking in place, and my power pinged a warning, danger-

 _-Guilt, self-hate, sorrow- emotions building to peaks and lows. Retreats from emotions through power. Escapism, evasion, retreat from reality. Emotions building to peaks and lows-_

 _-Derail-_

I acted on impulse.

"Mimi," I said, paused, considered what to say, "Mimi... We're all here for a reason. That means me too. That was an accident, I'm not holding it against you."

I smiled for her. Mimi stared at me, then blinked rapidly and looked away.

My arm was agonizing and numb in turns, but we needed to move. I stepped towards Elle, and was surprised to find her looking at me. "Ready?" I asked, and held out my hand.

She reached out and took mine after a moment, and I felt the connection-

 _-Distrust, frustration. Wary. Curiosity-_

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

Mimi took her other hand and we started climbing again. Up two flights, the stairs ended. "This one..." Mimi said.

I could hear another alarm sounding in the distance.

A push bar door opened into something that felt more like Alchemilla to me, but less welcoming. The carpets were gone, the floors were entirely white utility rubber, and the walls were all sterile white, even the ceiling tiles were grey. This was a hospital not even attempting to be welcoming. A camera was directed at the door as we entered, and it felt a little like walking into a spotlight- walking into the line of sight. It left me vaguely nervous, but I could only hope that there was someone on the other side in a position to help us.

Still just that distant blare of the alarm, no other sound but our footsteps. No other voices, no other sounds. It was eerie.

There was only one door in this hall, a single solid metal affair with heavy plating. Out of curiosity, I stopped and touched it as we passed and my power hinted at its thickness and strength. A pair of keycard slots flanked it on either side.

"Um." Mimi cleared her throat, trying to fill the silence, "This is high security, special containment. They keep the patients spread out here. Because they can't mingle freely, there's bigger cells." she paused, "There's armored gates between sections, but I'm pretty sure Elle can take care of them..."

"Do patients move from special containment to the regular sections of the hospital often?"

"No, I... I don't think so." Mimi frowned, "I can move around a lot because I'm... I'm dangerous, but my power can be contained easily."

She gave me what was probably intended as a reassuring smile, but mostly looked afraid and sickly.

"Which doctors do you have?" I asked, "Who are your therapists?"

"The doctors..." Mimi frowned again, "The only good thing that ever came from the doctors was Elle. We were in the same group for power testing, and we got to hang out. The doctors don't know how to help us."

"They don't?" I thought about Doctor Yamada, Doctor Selmy, and how much talking to them helped me, "Why do you think that?"

Mimi's eyes flashed, "They just want to prod us and stick us with needles and write it all down! They never help us!"

Her eyes glowed a moment, and for just a flicker flames appeared, running down her arms- and gone almost as quickly as they appeared, Mimi's eyes darting to Elle. Elle made a soft sound, in pain; and Mimi let go of Elle's hand like she was the one burned.

"Sorry." Mimi looked away, hugging her arms to herself again.

I watched her in silence.

 _-self-hate, misery, hates hurting others, afraid, hurts others often by accident, afraid of hurting others, has killed before-_

I clamped down on the voice, hard. We were all here for a reason. Me too. I remembered Doctor Selmy's story about Feral. We were all here for the same reason, we were all here to get better.

Who was in Mimi's corner?

I felt my spine straighten. Well, if no-one else was going to be, I'd have to do. It was the heroic thing to do.

"My therapists have helped me a lot." I said, slowly, focusing on my power's input, concentrating so I didn't mess this up. I suddenly felt very self conscious. "Doctor Selmy wanted me to make friends, and... I think I have."

"Oh..." Mimi said, "That's nice..." She said, bitterly.

 _-envy, resentment, sorrow. Envies my connections, friendships. Does not count herself as one-_

"Would you mind if I asked to share a meal schedule? So we can talk more?"

Mimi stopped and turned to me, her eyes wide and shocked, "W-why?"

"Well, you're my friend, right?" I swallowed back nerves, "You were sitting all alone. I-I think you need someone to be there you can talk to."

Mimi stared at me, her eyes watering, "I, I... Yes. I'd... I'd like that."

We started walking again. The hallway forked and Mimi turned left; I followed her, tugging Elle behind. Another flight of stairs and another bank of elevators. These ones had an intact panel of buttons, but Mimi ignored them again, and I trailed after her. Come to think of it, what would happen if Elle got in an elevator? I could sense her power right now, radiating outwards through, and in, the walls, and the floors and ceiling... What would happen if that connection was interrupted in some way? Would an elevator disrupt her power?

The inside of an elevator was probably not the best place to test that, I decided, heading after Mimi.

Ow, those burns still hurt. I turned inwards, trying to distract myself, concentrating on those motes of familiarity drifting in the distance. Heather, Nick, Doctor Yamada.

All of them felt so far away and distant, but the interference from Elle's world was almost entirely gone now. I didn't know if that was because I was outside her world, or if it was because I was holdng her hand, growing immune to the effect...

My thoughts were interrupted by Mimi. She started talking, very quietly, her voice rough and thick. "Usually, when I burn someone, they, they never want anything to do with me any more."

"That's why you don't use your powers?" I asked, trying to break the silence, "Right?"

She shrugged one shoulder, "The... The doctors say using my power, it adjusts, um, chemicals in my brain. It fucks up my emotions. If I use my power then it gets harder to stop. Until I can't stop using it."

I thought about that. That matched what my power had hinted at. For some powers maybe it wouldn't matter, but for a pyrokinetic... Fuck, that was terrible. But what did I say to that?

"Just being near flame is enough to start it." Mimi murmured, "If I use my power, then I stop caring. I start hurting people. I stop caring about them, and I hurt them, and I just can't care."

Mimi looked over at me, and there were tears in her eyes, but they were glowing a little too now. Green with a candle-spot of orange. She covered her face in her hands, "I-I just want to stay that way. Sometimes. It's easier."

"I..." What did I say to that? What was there to say to that? Sorry your superpowers suck? I was still formulating a response when I felt an impression from Elle, emotions, all frustration and indignation spilling over.

"You... hiding from it... afraid." she said. Mimi stopped, looking at Elle, "You want an e-excuse. To say... It wasn't you."

Accusing.

It was strange, looking at Elle and Mimi, knowing what Mimi could do. Elle was barely able to talk, and swayed where she held my hand. But Mimi was the one looking away, hugging her arms and hunching her shoulders.

"I know." Mimi murmured, eyes downcast, "I'm sorry."

I looked at the two of them. And suddenly, I saw a parody of me and Emma.

And it was so sad, because I could see that they really were friends. They were friends, but it was like everything that made friends friends was turned in on itself. Mimi was dangerous; I liked her, and she didn't mean to be, but she was. Elle couldn't control Mimi, couldn't protect herself from Mimi. But Mimi couldn't protect herself from Mimi either, not alone.

"Stop it, both of you."

Mimi blinked and looked up at me, and even Elle turned and looked. I winced from my own outburst, my shoulder throbbed and black danced in the corner of my eyes again. I felt light headed.

"I... I see where all this is coming from. I do." I said. I bit my lip and looked at Elle, "I got burned too."

I glanced at Mimi and hesitated, "I can't imagine what having your power would be like." I said, "But I do know what it's like for me. I know I was really afraid, and lonely. I kind of saw that in you too. Both of you."

Mimi and Elle both stared at me, and I felt exposed and shy. I wanted to look away and disappear, "I-I know what it's like to be all alone here."

The moment felt awkward. I glanced at Elle. A strange blend of emotions welling in our shared connection. An unfocused sense of betrayal, pain from her burns, a kind of childish petulance, anger, fear, frustration. There was a lot of frustration.

"Elle," I said, "I was burned too."

I took a deep breath, "But we're all going to get somewhere safe, get our burns looked at. And we're going to do it together, okay? We can work together, and we can do this together." I leaned against the wall, spent, resting and breathing hard, my arm hurt so much. "We have to, none of us can do it alone."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

When I could walk again, we tackled the stairs.

At the top of the stairs was a door, but it was more like a vault. It had the two key card slots from before, a camera trained on it, a little sprinkler-thing, a pressure plate you had to step on to go through, and touching it, I guessed it had to be half a foot thick. At least. That was A Door.

Mimi ignored it entirely, walked to the wall beside it and carefully measured out two arm-spans. "Right here."

Elle let go of my hand and walked to the wall. She stood there a moment... that stretched on, and kept stretching. I could feel her doing something, but nothing was happening...

"Give her a minute." Mimi said, staring at Elle intently.

After several more minutes, Elle turned and looked at us, and it was like when I startled her- a fast-forward of wire and rust running down the walls. The lights dimmed, flickered. Suddenly, we were in her nightmare again, and there was a hole in the wall beside a door of rusted metal plates and bars. It was dark, and the stairwell echoed.

The hole set the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I took Elle's hand, and after a moment Mimi took her other, and Elle let her.

Inside was quiet, water dripped and echoed, but it was usually lost in the sound of us walking, splashing through the water. The water was ankle deep, tepid, murky and brown, and flowed through the hole out onto the landing, dripping into the stairwell- now a pit lined with rusty spikes that reminded me of teeth. The stairs were gone.

I leaned out a little over it, looking down the long fall and wondered if that was Elle's power filling in her hopelessness, her inability to escape. I could hear Mimi fidget behind me, and it was dangerous- the railing was gone now, all that remained was a series of jagged spikes of twisted metal where the railing had been. They were the opposite of safe, and that was a long fall.

"All right, I'm good." I said, "Lead on, Mimi."

Through the hole, I immediately noticed it was darker than the nightmare asylum had been. There were lights, but the ceiling was higher, and they got lost in the pipes and chains, and the draping bundles of barbed wire.

Was Elle's world still changing? Or was that a reflection of the place, were the ceilings just really high here? Was it that Elle's mood had darkened? I stared up at a lonely lightbulb hanging on a wire, swinging gently in the wind, throwing confused shadows crawling over the walls and water. We passed an intersection, two long hallways full of murk. Our footsteps echoed.

A few minutes passed. It was a straight shot to the next stairwell, but gave me enough time to think all the same. It was a little strange that the stairs and elevators weren't laid out together one level to the next, and I asked why they weren't.

"It's a security measure." Mimi said, "If we had security clearance we could take the elevators all the way up, but the stairs alternate, to reduce access points."

I blinked, "That doesn't sound very safe, what if there's a fire?"

Mimi blinked at me, at the concrete nightmare walls studded with rusty wire and nails, then back, "I think they had other things to worry about." She said, "These aren't the public wings. Special containment patients don't, um, mingle as freely."

"Huh." I said. Thought about that, "Are all the walls reinforced here?" the doors certainly looked like bank vaults...

"Every wing is reinforced." Mimi said, "All the utilities and access go through hubs, the rest is, uh, there's like a shell..." She struggled a moment, "The walls are armored."

I haden't noticed that. I tilted my head, frowning, "How do you know so much?"

Mimi shrugged, "I've been here four years..." And she'd been talking about escaping with Elle earlier, I remembered... Hmm.

We walked on, and then I stopped. Mimi stopped too, and Elle stopped between us. The hallway was dark now, completely black. The last flickering lightbulb had been left far behind, and now I could barely see Mimi. Elle was a faint, pale suggestion of a ghost in the dark. Ahead was solid black, no light at all.

"Mimi can you give us some light?"

Mimi opened her mouth, then stopped, whipping around to stare at me, "What? No! I-I can't!"

I paused, "Well, is there another way around?"

"Um, we can look..." Mimi said. She didn't sound very confident.

We backtracked, sloshing through the water to the previous intersection. But that proved a dead end. One hallway lead to a pair of double doors piled with bloody gurneys and rusted wheelchairs and other furniture packed so densely in a jumble that untangling them was impossible. The other was a dead end, with several of the armored doors, one of which was ominously ajar, forced open from the inside.

"We could go back and see if we can move the chairs..." I suggested.

We went back to the blocked door. Mimi and I gave up after ten minutes of work freed only a single wheelchair.

If I'd had both arms maybe I would have been able to help more, maybe puzzle through the mess, Thinking like a Thinker thinks. I glared at the pile and again tried to decipher where Labyrinth began and the real world ended. Why would there be a pile of chairs and junk stuffed in a door though? That had to be Elle's power...

While my back had been turned and I had been lost in thought, Elle had appropriated the wheelchair, and was now seated, starring ahead.

Mimi pushed the wheelchair- which mostly worked, one wheel was a little crooked and hitched a bit as it rolled through the water. But as we approached the darkened hallway a shiver of apprehension ran down my back. Elle rolled up to the dark, Mimi pushing and me following into the dark, we kept going, until Mimi faded away, and then Elle disappeared, and then it was true black.

After a moment, I couldn't take the quiet.

"I'm getting goosebumps." I said. I was, there was a chill down my back. I felt anxious...

"Y-yeah." Mimi said, a little to the right and ahead of me. The only other sound was the creak of Elle's wheelchair and the splashes from our feet.

I glanced back behind us. In the distance I could only just see a glimmer of light.

"How much further?" I asked.

It echoed.

"Just to the end of the hall, then we go right." Mimi said.

The squeak of the wheel and the slosh of our feet.

There was something wrong. That feeling was growing. I couldn't put it in words. It was that same itching on the back of my neck, the same feeling of being watched. Of that muted danger, unfocused.

It made my breath quicken, my palms sweat. The smell of copper filled my nose, my mouth. Benny in my arms, struggling to breathe...

I listened to the echoes, pushing with my power. But there was nothing, nothing but the sound of water and the gentle breeze.

Sound. Sound was all around me, what could I hear?

I concentrated on the sound of our feet and the wheels. Everything echoed, bouncing the sound around until it was a confused mess without a source or direction, but I bent my power to it. It was like reading Lizard Prince, like climbing the rocks. A sense of the shape of the hallway intruded, then the concrete, the pipes. Distances, the two girls in front of me, their familiarity fixing them as points of reference. Slowly, the cacophony settled and smoothed out into order. The blanks gradually replaced with a sense of space, my place in it, of others inside that space.

It was heady, giddy. A little frightening. Like looking down at myself, Mimi, and Elle and seeing how small we truly were. Then something else made my neck prickle. I counted one set of wheels, and three sets of feet.

Someone was following us.

I had not tried using my power this way before, and my perception of the space in three dimensions was inexact, and sometimes confused, but I had the impression that whatever was following us was... was tall and heavy. My mouth went dry. Huge. I could hear deep breathing now, and the heft of its footfalls much heavier than ours. It was trying to be quiet, but its size meant it made a lot more noise then us.

The sense of danger was still there in the backgound low, nebulous. Like the intent was there, but not decided. Like when Elephant had been violent, but not provoked.

My throat clenched. It was growing nearer.

"Mimi, stop."

"Huh?" The squeak of the wheels ended. A pause, "Taylor?"

My throat was tight. But the shape, the third set of footfalls, it was still far away, out behind us. Still moving.

"Hello?" I called. My voice sounded painfully weak, and frightened. I hated it immeadiately.

The shape following us paused, briefly, and silently resumed walking towards us.

"Hello? Who's there?"

My power sharpened, that sense of danger. Not immediate and wild, like it had been for Elephant, but all-encompassing. Inexorably growing nearer. Something cold ran down my back. Not a premonition from my power this time. Something primal and small, it made my palms sweat and my hair stand on end, afraid.

Thump. It was getting louder. Metal scraped on concrete. Something rattled faintly.

"Mimi." I whispered, "Mimi, we need a light."

"Um." I could hear the fear in her voice too, she hesitated.

"Please."

A pause, and an orange glow flickered into existence. Mimi, a flame dancing in one hand, eyes glowing orange.

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light even as I craned my head to look back the way we had come. And then, several things happened at once.

The vague sense of danger sharpened, grew painful. Like a knife flashing out, drawn. Chains rattled. The thing following us broke into a loping run.

And in the same moment, it started to fade. Everything, all at once, like numbness, and I froze up.

Elle and Mimi's presence dwindled to nothing, so suddenly that I almost tripped. It wasn't just them, though. My hyper-awareness of the corridor around me narrowed, then collapsed. The echoes became confused and jumbled where before they all had a source I could name. It was darker, or the darkness hindered me more. The pain in my arm flared, and my limbs felt both lighter and heavier in the wake of something immaterial, something beyond and more than my awareness, passing.

It felt strange. Like it was suddenly quiet, so quiet my ears ought to have been ringing. Like I was numb, from head to toe. Like I was colorblind. Like I was naked in front of a room full of strangers. And so much more- I was so much less. I felt like a stranger in my own skin.

And yet, none of those were true.

Mimi, her fire flickered, guttered out and died.

"What-" Mimi murmured, her eyes weren't glowing any more either.

The sound of running feet was growing louder, so loud in the confines of the concrete. I heard a shout from Mimi.

Suddenly the footfalls stopped, and I had an instant of confusion, wondering why he had stopped running- the floor shook with the impact as something enormous landed. An arm as thick as my waist grabbed at me, whistling overhead the motion sent me to the floor, limp with pain.

I think the dark actually saved my life, because while I lay there, half unconscious with pain, the huge thing fumbled around and missed me helpless at its feet.

An errant foot kicked me and I screamed, then started crawling. I was back in the alley, back with the copper and the blood.

And I was in the hospital, with blood running down my fingers as a wide, wide eye stared up at me in sudden surprise. But desperation fueled me now, and pain lent a raw edge to my breathing. Anger welled up in me, and I crawled hand over hand along the ground- I hoped in the same direction as Mimi and Elle had been. I found a wide wheel- Elle's chair, knocked over. No Elle though.

My questing hand met fabric and I grabbed it without thinking. The fabric belonged to a pants leg, and the leg immediately drew back and kicked me in the face.

"Mimi!" I gasped.

She stopped kicking me, "Taylor, right here!" The voice was unfamiliar, and the hand that found mine small.

"Elle?"

Another hand grabbed me, pulled me upright, a larger hand. Two pairs of hands, two people slung my arms over their shoulders and we ran, stumbling and reeling through the dark, the huge thing crashing behind us.

It was like a nightmare made real. Every breath was haggard, every step was agony, and the sound of our pursuer seemed to come from every direction. Mimi was on my right, and had to have one hand on the wall, because suddenly we swung to the right instead of continuing on and crashing face first into the wall. As it was, we skidded and crushed up against the wall in a tangle; but Mimi was pulling me up a moment later, and Elle was dragged along as well. Elle lagged a little, we had both crushed her against the wall. She picked up the pace when a heavy crash impacted behind us. The thing chasing us had not turned as quickly as we had.

My sides were heaving, I couldn't see in the dark, and I could barely stand. Every breath hurt, but we continued our headlong charge. The dark was so complete that even with one hand on the wall, Mimi couldn't keep us from running headlong into the door ourselves at the end- and if it had been any other kind of door, we would probably have died there in the dark, the thing catching up to us while we fumbled. But luck was on our side, it was a pushbar.

When we hit, the pain in my shoulder was even more intense, but the adrenaline kept me awake. Or maybe I did black out for a moment, and lost that moment in the dark.

The next thing I knew, there was a crack of light, and Mimi framed against it, trying to drag Elle and me through. I think Elle was dazed, she slumped, sluggish. I struggled to my feet and pulled too, and we stumbled through together.

As the door swung closed behind us, I heard an ominous Thump.

Elle legs failed to carry her, and she sank to the ground, Mimi dipping with her sudden weight.

"Come on." I said.

Thump.

"Get up, come on!" I only had one hand to work with, but I seized Elle's shoulder and shook her, and then grabbed Mimi's hand.

Thump.

"Mimi, come on!"

Mimi righted herself, and we ran. We were half blinded by the sudden light, I was dimly aware of turning- to the left this time, and the sound of the door slamming open somewhere behind us, but the sound was barely audible over a blaring alarm. I had tunnel vision. Doors and walls and everything else; all of it passed, all of it a blur, all of it so clear.

One of the doors crashed open, and out lumbered another monster, and we paused in our run, staring at it.

It wasn't a faceless and unseen horror in the dark, but it would be easier to describe it if it looked less human. All the parts were there, but it was twisted, wrong. Its arms and chest and legs were masses of muscle and sinews, like a gorilla, or some twisted caricature of a bodybuilder, deformed and in silhouette. But it was all uneven- sagged or bulging to one side with a massive protrusion of muscle. Its face was eerily featureless, with a flat nose and cheekbones, almost no ears, and tiny, glittering eyes.

It looked at us a moment and gave an open-mouthed rasping snarl, stepping towards us with both arms raised even as the Thumping footsteps grew louder behind us.

I stepped, unthinking, in the opposite direction of the monster's grasping hands, dragging Mimi and Elle in a chain behind me. I got lucky again, and my step turned into a run down another fork. I didn't look when a crash followed by a roar shook the floor behind us.

We kept running, turning down forks, until another pair of doors filled my vision and we pushed them open, and we were done.

I stopped, holding my side, spots swimming in my eyes, trying to remain upright. Elle sank to the floor. Mimi leaned against the door, her hands on her knees. We all listened for the sound of Thumping footsteps, for the thing behind us, but there was nothing and the other two girls panting beside me.

"Taylor, are you all right?" Mimi wheezed.

"I'm... Yeah, I'm okay." I gasped, "Are your powers gone too?"

"Yes," Mimi said, "They're gone."

"Elle, you too?"

Elle... Elle was still sitting on the floor, looking around, eyes bright and aware. Hands fisted, arms drawn to her chest, nervous; but entirely in command of herself, "Y-yeah."

The world through the door was different and for a moment I felt lost.

Here the nightmare was gone, iron bars were exchanged for doors, and rust and oil for pristine paint and wood panneling, ceiling tiles, and lights. The floor was carpet under my feet. I stood frozen, we were in a kind of open foyer dominated by an unmanned reception desk. There were doors with names on them, doctors; it was an administrative block, I guessed. A fork of two hallways lead deeper in, further away from the stairs.

I stared a moment, transfixed, before I came back to myself, and the other two girls panting beside me.

"What's going on?" Parahumans couldn't just lose their powers, did they? They just... they didn't! "What was that... That thing?"

"I don't know." Mimi admitted.

She looked lost, harried, looked tired, hair plastered to her face and neck with fear and sweat. I had been hoping she'd know, that she'd know what to do about him... It... Whatever it was. Even as I wondered, it was like a curtain was lifted, I could feel my power again, faintly, and growing stronger. Mimi gasped too, and a flicker of a glow illuminated her eyes. Elle groaned on the floor.

Okay, so our powers were back. Was he a power canceler parahuman of some kind? Another power? Was it an effect connected to how close we were to him, or a more exotic aspect?

But even as my sixth sense crowded back in, I could feel that sensation, that feeling of being hunted. Of a malevolent awareness catching sight of me. I was still reeling, but I thought I understood what it meant. And as it focused sharply on us, I realized what was happening.

"He has a Thinker power, he's going to come back, he knows we're here." I gasped, "Come on, we gotta move."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The world through the door was different, now that I had a chance to see it, to actually look at it.

Desks blocked a door here, there a chair lay on its side, knocked to the floor. Glass littered the floor were it had been broken and a door forced open. Offices were barricaded and the doors were broken, or the windows were smashed. And there, a bloody smear where someone had opened a door, more hand prints on the wall. A room full of computers with no lights on filled an ominous backdrop on one side. The tantalizing light of a green Exit sign glimmered behind the grate of a closed security shutter. We couldn't get to the stairs. Not that way.

It was so quiet, just my blood in my ears.

I hesitated, then walked to the receptionist's desk- I thought, maybe there was a map we could use... There was a surprise waiting for me when I looked over the top of the counter.

The receptionist had been a man of average height and build. Also, his head was missing. He lay in a pool of his own blood, arms thrown back, tangled in his chair.

"Oh- oh my-" I stumbled back, my stomach doing cartwheels and flips, "Fuck! Fuck."

Mimi heard me, and saw too. I don't think Elle did. I didn't see her face, I was too busy getting my breathing back under control.

"W-where are we?" I gasped, "Mimi?"

"Doctor's offices." she replied, also shaken, "Secure ward's Dispensary is right around the corner."

I didn't trust myself to reply immediately; and when I didn't, Elle spoke, her voice very soft, "Is... Is it still after us?"

My breathing was still giving me trouble, "I..."

A cheery chime sounded overhead-

 _"Attention all staff. Attention all staff. Faculty status: One. Repeat, One. Situation code: Clear skies, Lavender. Wide ranging Shaker effect has dissipated. A joint relief force has arrived. Remain where you are and await rescue."_

"Repeat: help is on the way. Remain where you are. Help is on the way."

Help was on the way. That. That was good. Elle's world was gone, help could get in now, more heroes were arriving to help. My mind turned over sluggishly. The pain was still there, but also so far away. It couldn't paralyze me. Mimi and Elle were my friends, and saving friends was what heroes did. I wasn't going to let my friends die. I'd look after them.

I would... what would I do? I was tired, and I hurt...

The Dispensary... The Dispensary would have drugs. Drugs needed to be secured. It would have security. Locks. Thick doors. Somewhere we could hide. Cameras? Maybe someone would be able to see us, to find us there. I breathed a moment, "Is the Dispensary that way?" I pointed down the right-hand hall.

"Yes." Mimi said.

My extra awareness was already diminishing, and Mimi's eyes were fading.

Heavy footprints trailed from the pool of blood around the receptionist's body, winding back through the foyer and back into the offices. It didn't escape me that we were following the trail of blood.


	13. Creche 2-4

**{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Everything was wood panels and cream paint here. Warmer and more welcoming than the lower levels. The carpet was dark green. If I tried, I could imagine nothing was wrong, that the heavy silence was normal. Then we passed a chair smashed on the wall. Here and there blood was smeared on the walls, a hole was punched in the plaster. A door was braced with chairs arranged in a jam under the knob. A sheaf of papers was scattered in the middle of the corridor. A clipboard abandoned in a corner. An arc of red trailed over a door ajar, and a dark stain pooled under it. Drag marks in the carpet, but no body.

It was so quiet.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That sense of danger, of being under a microscope, weak and powerless, was back. Stronger, as my power returned again.

"My power's back. I can feel him looking for us." I said, "Let's keep moving."

I turned my power to tracking the blood trail. It wasn't new. Most of it was dark and coagulated.

The blood trail continued through double doors, the footprints, bare feet tracking red, we followed them until we found the Dispensary. The Dispensary was a mess- it was a room shaped like a U, with a long counter dividing the Dispensary proper from a sizable waiting area, with doors at each end, and two more on the far wall. Now, chairs were tangled, tables shattered, upended- and doors ajar, all of it illuminated under florescent lights, and I slowed, taking in the waiting area. There were also some metal security shutters, half-closed over the counter. Something had wrenched them open, the locking mechanisms were torn out of the floor.

"W-were is everyone?" Elle whispered.

"I don't know," Mimi replied, "Maybe... Maybe they evacuated?"

But evacuated where?

Cabinets and shelving lined the walls, pill bottles and boxes were strewn everywhere, and cabinets stood emptied. It looked like there had been looting, but it had been interrupted. Or perhaps someone had been searching for something. We wandered behind the counter, and scattered pills crunched underfoot. A security camera hung from a ceiling fixture, broken.

But... But if the security shutters couldn't keep anyone out, we couldn't hide here...

"Where do we go now?" Elle wondered, wobbling past me. She was limping, her feet-

"Elle!" I gasped, and grabbed her shoulder, steering her to an intact chair as Mimi hovered. She was bleeding! She had left a lopsided trail of bloody footprints behind us, and even as she sat there, a pool started to spread under her left foot. I lifted her foot to see, and found a three-inch cut across the pad of her heel.

"I- I didn't realize- I'm sorry!" She said.

It had to have happened while we were running- stepping on glass maybe. It was deep but neat and clean, it would bleed freely, but I didn't think there would be any permanent damage.

"Mimi, help me!"

She knelt down beside me, holding up shaking hands, and a roll of gauze. She'd had that all this time? "Where?"

"Just put pressure on it, we need to stop the bleeding." Mimi wrapped Elle's cut, and the gauze was soaked red almost immediately. I glanced across the room, where would there be a first aid kit. Mimi's little roll of gauze wouldn't last long.

Wait, it was a Dispensary. There had to be something-

"Keep pressure on it, I'll be right back!"

Bandages, something that could stop bleeding, something to prevent infection. I pushed my power out into the mess of pill bottles and boxes, my good hand quickly rifling through the detritus. There- a big box of gauze, I grabbed a fistful of rolls. A tube of antiseptic cream. I dug through a tipped shelf and extracted a stretch bandage and hurried back to Mimi where she fought ith her sodden gauze.

More gauze went on, and some of the antiseptic, then Mimi wrapped Elle's ankle. I watched, standing by helpless with only one hand while Mimi worked, until I felt a tug on my sleeve. Elle's hand was fisted in my sleeve again. She was biting her lip, really pale. If the pain hadn't hit her while we were panicked and running she was feeling it now.

"How are you holding up?"

Elle looked up, "I'm trying to hold onto- to me."

"You?" I blinked, "Oh, you mean your power?"

She nodded, "It- it's back and, I don't want to be useless. I don't want to slow you down."

"You won't slow us down." Mimi said firmly, "I can carry you if we need. Right Taylor?"

"Yeah." I said. Elle frowned down at Mimi.

"How does your power work?" I asked.

"It's um..." Elle's eyes lost focus for a moment, "It's like I'm building a world, all my own. I can fill it with whatever I want." She said, all in a rush.

"Whatever you want? That sounds pretty cool." I said.

"But... But... I can't... I get lost." Elle stumbled, eyebrows furrowing, "It's hard to keep... anchored, to myself. I... I g-get lost."

Her hands clenched, and her mouth opened, but fell silent. Wordlessly, she turned and looked at me, there were frustrated tears in her eyes.

"It's okay, Elle." I said, quietly. Mimi finished tying Elle's foot, and wouldn't meet my eyes, instead looking at the ground dejectedly. I took a deep breath and let it out in a heartfelt sigh.

Then I stood, looking out over the mess. Where did we go from here? This wasn't all, was it? I glanced to the back of the Dispensary, there was a door, I could only just see the frame from the counter. I stepped around the mess of the fallen shelf. Behind the Dispensary counter was all tile and florescent lights, though most were turned off. It was clean and sterile, except for the bloody smears on the wall, dried red hand prints framed a struggle and a corpse broken beside the door. A girl in blue. Blonde hair cropped short. Now, mostly red.

I swallowed, looking away, "There's a body back here."

A pause, "Do we need to leave?" Mimi's voice was cautious.

"I frowned, "I don't think so. There's a door..." A door- barred from the other side with a desk and steel storage shelveing, piled boxes; the door had been sturdy and had held off a furious assault, now gouged and splintered. "Looks like someone barricaded it." I said.

I tried to see into the room. It looked like storage, shelves and boxes- the backrooms of the Dispensary. Curiously empty and orderly compared to the chaos and disarray in the waiting room. Boxes sat on shelves, a chair sat at a workstation, which showed what looked like an inventory spreadsheet. Bottles of prescriptions waiting to be filled. Pills and syrups. Paperwork. Clipboards. Folders in an orderly stand. Aside from the shelves and desk shoved in front of the door, it was almost untouched.

Someone had shoved that desk and those shelves in front of the door. Someone had locked the madness out, which meant someone else was in here. Might still be... No, I could see a second door, left open, on the other side of the office. I regarded it sadly. I'd hoped we would be able to stay here, safe. But it looked like this wasn't a sure haven.

The shelf barricading the door was one of those utility steel things, all twisted out of shape. Bits of the door still blocking the way and tangled up in the shelf and the bent metal of the hinges, the bar lock, and the arm closer, and little space to slip through.

The door was scarred, but the barricade had held.

An idea took root. That huge parahuman with the heavy footsteps... He wouldn't fit in there, but we might. We were small enough.

And I could still feel that sense of watchfulness in the back of my mind, of the parahuman's Thinker power. He was still out there, he was still stalking us. It was just a matter of time...

"Mimi, Elle. I think I have something."

I turned and walked back, Mimi was helping Elle stand up. The vacant look in Elle's eyes was back.

"There's a door here, it's got a desk shoved in front of it, and a shelf and other stuff. I think we can squeeze through, and the other guy can't. It might be somewhere to hide. I-" I paused, what was that? It was like a wall of silence was moveing across the room, filling every space. But I wasn't seeing it with my eyes, it was like a feeling on my skin. The wall passed over Elle and Mimi, and Elle blinked sharply.

I stumbled back a step, but it was too late, and the advancing wall engulfed me, and when It touched me, and the silence descended again.

It was that power- that power canceler!

"He's back!" I hissed. How close was he? I had no way of knowing!

"Can he find us?" Elle asked.

"He knows we're here." I gasped, "Come on, we gotta move."

We hurried to the back of the Dispensary, pushing and kicking through boxes and slipping on the pill-covered floor.

Elle gave a quiet gasp at the sight of the corpse, and Mimi's lips thinned to a grim line.

Confronted with the door itself, my earlier assumptions appeared far too optimistic, "All right... Can Elle fit through there?"

Mimi turned away from the dead girl and looked at the barricade, "Is there another way through?"

"I don't know, but it's all we have right now, and it looks like nobody got in." I gasped, "Help me with this."

Even all three of us working together could only pull the shelf leaned over the desk a few inches to the side- enough for one of us to wiggle through. Elle went first, since she was the smallest, but even then it took a lot of effort for her to shimmy through, head bent low. It would take me, or Mimi even longer.

In the distance, a door slammed.

We didn't have longer.

"Mimi." I whispered, "Mimi we need to hide."

Elle redoubled her squirming, and finally half fell, half crawled through the shelf.

She was back in a moment, "W-what about you?" Elle whispered back.

"Hide, Elle." Mimi whispered, "We'll- we'll be fine."

I wobbled a bit, managed to grab Mimi's shoulder, and steered her back, away from the door. I tried not to see the look on Elle's face.

Thump.

Where could we hide? I was momentarily at a loss, before the obvious occurred to me, and I knelt down in front of one of the ransacked cabinets. I started crying when I tried to reach out and open it with my bad arm. It hurt so much. I felt so weak and powerless, so small.

Thump. Scrape.

I fumbled with the handle, and opened it, most of what had been inside was thrown on the floor now. Mimi climbed in, and I climbed in after her, my ribs stung, my arm screamed, and I almost blacked out with the pain, I could only lay there panting, spots swimming in front of my eyes.

Thump. Scrape.

I pulled the cabinet closed, then cracked it just a hair, looking out, almost afraid to, but more afraid not to. Mimi crowded me, but only just, and we jostled a little in silence.

"Shh," I hissed.

"I'm not saying anything!" Mimi protested, which earned her a hand over her mouth. My heartbeat felt so loud I thought we'd be heard anyway. Too loud, everything was too loud. Every movement as Mimi tried to pry my hand away. We shifted around, trying to find a possition that allowed us to sit comfortably even wiht our legs and arms tangled. Mimi jabbed me with a knee. I lost control of Mimi's mouth and tried covering my own. It was so loud.

I hoped Elle was hiding too.

A breath passed. Another. Something Thudded, wood splintered, wood scraped as something pushed it across the floor.

Thump. Scrape.

Something was in the room. I couldn't see it, the cabinet was facing the wrong direction. But I could hear it, and it sounded huge, each footstep thudding with ponderous slowness. I was sure I could feel it through the floor. A shadow passed across the wall, enormous and misshapen.

Blood. I nearly gagged, it reeked of blood. The smell was overpowering. Copper in the back of my throat.

I didn't realize what I was hearing until the thing passed our cabinet; it was two legs, thick and heavy, huge, bare. Hairy. A man, I guessed. He stepped and his skin stuck to the floor, and when he took another step it peeled away, left a bloody footprint behind. Each step was like a tree trunk striking the ground.

A tap, as a drop of liquid hit the floor, and a cool wash passed down my face, a chill ran down my back. His hands were red with it to the elbow, and he was splattered from head to toe. That was him I smelled. The blood all over him.

I craned my head to look up, and glimpsed a broad chest and dark red. A large, faceless helmet, a mask- perhaps it was a brace- covered his face, neck, and shoulders, distorted his profile, made it alien. Some thing not real, sub-human. It was tied to his chest with a kind of heavy leather harness that trailed broken chains. Only a narrow cross slit in the front allowed him to see.

He stepped again, dragging something behind him. I could see a person- a leg- oddly proportioned, and it took me a moment to realize it was the malformed ape-thing. Now, limp and unmoving, dragged by an ankle.

There was another sound, one I didn't recognize at first, a wheezing, snuffling. A cough. Or was it a growl?

He turned- with that brace on his shoulders, he couldn't move his head -after a moment I realized he was scanning the wreckage, slowly moving across the cabinets and boxes and shelves.

I shivered. Across from me, Mimi's face was sheet white, and her hands covered her mouth. In fear of making a sound, or attempting not to vomit. I pressed my hands together, and they were trembling.

A thud, and I nearly screamed, Mimi was crying silently. He was tearing at the door with one hand, shoving and pulling at the shelves blocking his entrance. He gave a great heave, throwing his weight against the frame, and I heard wood give, break and splinter. That growl again, rumbling from deep within his chest.

Behind the man in the mask, the mutated ape stirred. It woke up, yammering and protesting weakly. I could see its leg, ankle gripped in the masked man's huge hand- thick and muscled, but in the Man's grasp, it looked small, like a child's. It tugged slightly in his grip. All discolored and sickly and completely hairless.

The man paused, before ponderously turning and stepping over the prone mutant. He lifted a foot, and for a moment I believed he'd step over it.

Then he brought his foot down.

I couldn't see, the angle was wrong, I didn't see where the blow struck. But there was a meaty crack and the mutant's misshapen foot kicked, and I felt the impact through the floor. There was a pained squeal. The masked man stomped once, twice, then three times. On the fourth, the foot didn't move, didn't kick any more.

I didn't dare make a sound. Hardly dared to breathe. Mimi watched me with wide staring eyes and bloodless lips. The smell of blood was everywhere. There was a rushing in my ears, and the pain of my shoulder had my head swimming, but I didn't dare move. In a corner of my mind, I wondered if this was what it was like to be present at a cape fight and not have powers. To feel this small and weak and afraid.

I heard, and felt, him move away, each thud as he stepped- the shadow passed across the wall again.

I listened until his steps faded into silence. Until the pounding of my heart started to quiet and the rushing in my ears stilled. It was longer until my shoulder and arm hurt so much, and my legs cramped to the point I could no longer feel my feet- and I nudged the door open. I kind of folded out onto my face, Mimi helped me stand.

The mutant was dead, its rib cage cracked and pushed in, its skull crushed. I pulled away from the pool of blood surrounding it, walking for the reception area, looking for space, space to breathe.

That was were I lost it, and threw up all over the floor.

Mimi held my hair out of my face, and didn't throw up; but when I looked at her, her mouth was a grim line. She was pale as a sheet, but her jaw and eyes were fixed and hard.

"H-hello?" Elle's voice drifted to us past the barricade, "Is it safe?"

"I don't know." I said, huffing and holding a hand to my side. Ow, still hurt.

I could feel my power return, for just a moment, and an destinct impression, of a roving eye pauseing and turning back the way it came.

"He's on to us, come on!"

Again, my awareness faded, but where the huge man with his awkward metal mask and brace was unable to squeeze through, Mimi and I were slimmer. Even with the ruined door and shelf tangled with each other, Mimi could shimmy through, only earning herself a couple cuts on her hands- and a long tear on her scrub pants. I was a bit more awkward, I slipped my arm out of its sling delicately, before maneuvering one leg painfully through, wiggling a bit. My clothes caught on the jagged edges, my pants and shirt, the hem rode up a little, pinched in the splinters. I pushed, and when that didn't work I tried to back out again- but it was no use, I was my sling.

"Give me your arm." Elle asked. She reached out her hand.

It was my bad arm.

I hesitated, then clenched my teeth and reached out for her hand, she gripped me by the wrist and I braced myself. But I was not prepared for the pain. Mimi and Elle tugged lightly, then they pulled. It was all I could do not to scream. I twisted, working at it. With some effort my scrubs came loose with a rip and I tipped in to the room beyond. But I didn't care about that much anymore. I didn't care about much at all, care about much besides my arm. I just curled up in a ball on the floor, crying.

I was dimly aware of Mimi crouched down beside me, fussing over the bandages, and the sling- it had come loose- while I tried to stop sniffling.

"Thanks Mimi," I said, when she was done.

"Sure." Mimi said, looking a bit uncomfortable. But she wasn't shivering or rubbing her arms. Was this the real Mimi? Was whatever was blocking our powers also blocking out the effects those powers had on her?

I noticed Elle watching me, a little withdrawn.

"You okay?" I tried to smile, but I felt like shit and probably looked it too.

Elle opened her mouth to say something, but instead her eyes drifted to the door, and widened. And then she _screamed._

I jumped, bolting to my feet, even though it made the room spin, Mimi right there with me I turned to see what she was loking at, and had to take a step back..

He- it- the thing was standing there, on the other side of the door and the barricade. Just standing there, covered in blood, red on his hands, splashed halfway up its leg. Heavy muscles, a patchwork of scars and leather straps- cuffs on his wrists, arms, ankles, each thick and each torn loose. He wore very little clothing beyond shredded and discolored scraps of stained red hanging around his waist. Back-lit, dark and so huge; his shadow seemed to fill the whole world. Looking at him, the barricade looked so flimsy, like it couldn't possibly pose an obstacle at all. I felt so terribly exposed, my mouth was full of cotton, and I swallowed thickly.

"Oh fuck." Mimi said, grabbing my good shoulder in one hand, and Elle's in the other, pulling all of us back from the door.

How? How the fuck had he snuck up on us?

I was hyperventilating, my hand in Mimi's. Mimi was tugging on my arm. Not hard, she was looking at him too. We couldn't take our eyes off him, but Mimi was tugging me back a step at a time all the same. We moved back, foot by foot, never taking our eyes off him.

"What do you want?" Mimi demanded, voice shaking.

He didn't say a word. His hands were loose and limp at his sides. I could hear his breathing, echoing within the mask. Deep and even. The only sound I could hear. Maybe we had stopped breathing, maybe we didn't have heartbeats any more, it was the only sound. How was it so loud?

"W-what's he doing?" Elle whispered.

I didn't know, and I didn't trust myself to speak, so I took her hand and squeezed it.

But... He just stood there, watching us. Watching us. The seconds dragged on, until he slowly turned. Without a word, he just... He turned and walked back out. His footsteps were not as heavy as before, still ponderous and slow. But they weren't loud. They were no warning, if we tried to hear him coming, we might not.

I felt cold.

He wasn't letting us go. I was sure of that. My power was still a blank absence, but I knew that with bone-deep certainty. He wasn't letting us go. He was hunting us now.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I slid to the floor, just breathing shallowly. I felt drained. I looked at my hands, and the fingers shook. The pain, the walking, the running, the... things, and the emotional crucible had caught up with me. I couldn't stand any more. I was tired. Tired in my bones. I just... I needed time to breathe. I needed a rest. Sit down.

On either side of me, Mimi and Elle sat down as well, and we sat there a moment, tired and emotionally wrung-out. Then, to my surprise, Mimi wrapped an arm around my shoulders, around both me and Elle. She was pale and shaking at least as much as I was, but her eyes were focused on the barricaded door. For just a moment, it looked like we were safe.

We sat like that for a while, until finally my powers started coming back.

Mimi stiffened, and withdrew her arm quickly. There were two tiny glowing motes in her eyes, quickly doused. Her eyes were green again.

Elle just sighed, staring down at her feet. I could sense a mingling of frustration and dejection from her. And from Mimi, I could feel the familiarity, her guilt and her determination to make it right any way she could. Loyalty. The flash of fear in Mimi's eyes, when she realized her powers were back... It occurred to me that she'd pulled us away from the danger, from the masked man, and placed herself between us and the monster.

 _-afraid; afraid of being alone, afraid of loss, seeking reassurance; protective; fatigued; emotionally fatigued, physically fatigued; socially starved for contact-_

I looked at her sidelong, too tired to turn my head- looked at the burns down her cheeks and the bags under her eyes. Her eyes closed, and she leaned her head back against the wall, like she was dozing; she looked exhausted.

You can do it, Mimi.

"Hey." I said.

Mimi's eyes opened blearily, "Whu?" she rubbed her face, "Taylor?"

"Thanks back there." I said.

Mimi blinked at me a moment, then looked away.

Elle fidgeted, sneaking little glances, until she spoke up too, "Yeah... Um, thanks."

Mimi was tensed, shoulders hunched forward. Almost like she was bracing for a blow she was expecting, but after a moment she relaxed again, a little. We sat in silence. I couldn't have told you if it was a comfortable silence or not. Mostly, it was a tired silence. But eventually we'd need to move, and that meant that before that eventuality I'd need to start thinking.

Our powers were back... I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. If he could control that power suppressing ability; reel it in, or spread it out, then he might be lurking right outside the door right now, trying to lure us out. I waited, trying to sense the Thinker power- that sense of something hunting me. Trying to gauge what he was doing.

There was a brief awareness- a flicker, there then gone. Then it was back, and gone again. There was... Energy behind it. It moved, indecisive.

"How does your power work?" I asked, "I mean, using it?"

Mimi blinked, half turned away from me, "Um. I can make fire from anywhere, my skin. I, um, I have a lot of control." She made a sour face, like she couldn't decide if that was something she liked or not... Oh, I got it. She had a lot of control over her power, but not over herself when using her power. Hah, irony. Not funny.

"What can you do with it?" I asked instead.

"Anything!" For just a moment, her eyes were wide and earnest with pride, "I can make it into just about anything I want!"

"Show me."

She blinked, then hesitated, eyes sliding away a moment, "You, want me to... Use my power." Elle looked up too, staring past Mimi, at me- her eyes wide with disbelief. I don't think she know what to think; I could see her, mouth opened soundlessly. Incredulous.

Not at Mimi's power, but at me.

"Yeah."

Mimi raised a hand, slowly. She glanced at me, at her hand, then back again. Then- she lifted a finger and from the tip a thread of flame climbed into the air. It didn't waver like flame usually did, instead it looked like a tiny neon tube. I'd once seen a lamp like that, tiny neon filaments sculpted into a shape. And, like that lamp, the flame took a shape, grew and lengthened and bloomed into a flower of light in her hand. As I watched, it sharpened, settled as Mimi concentrated on the form she wanted and her eyes glowed. Different colors suggested veins in the leaves, suggested depth. I could count the petals.

Elle and I both stared at the tiny sculpture of flame.

"It's pretty," I breathed. I wasn't lying either. It was beautiful, more than I'd ever expected it could be.

She looked at me, it was furtive, her shoulders hunched slightly. I wondered if anyone had ever told her that her power could do anything good, be anything more than destructive. Was anything but frightening. She smiled shyly, pleased with my compliment, but what I was thinking about was the monster hunting us.

Elle glanced from me to the flower and back again, silent and dumbstruck.

"And you can teleport, right?"

She frowned, "Yeah. Why?"

"What are your limitations?"

Mimi hesitated, "I can teleport through fire. I have to be touching it, and I can only teleport to more. To where there's more fire."

Not a problem if she could make more anywhere, "Do you have to see it? Can you do it through walls?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I don't need to see it."

"Hmm..." I thought, "What's your range?"

Mimi blinked, "I don't know." She looked down at the flower, "I've never really used it outside, so..."

I leaned my head back, thinking about what I'd seen. The fight with the mutants, burning the records room... The way the fire surged at her command, blazing on concrete and metal.

"You can effect fire over a wide area, right? Control it?" That was a Shaker power...

"I... Make it bigger, smaller... Hotter, cooler, brighter, or dimmer. Move it around." Mimi mumbled, "Anything."

I was thinking faster now, "Sense it?"

"...Yeah." Mimi was looking uncomfortable now. My power hinted- I was reminding her of the doctors, the doctors that tested her and tested her, but couldn't help her. I sighed and wearily looked over at Elle, who still stared at me like I'd grown a second head.

"You use your power voluntarily?" I asked, "I saw what you did with the wall, made us a door, can you work with more than that, more complicated then that?"

Elle continued to stare.

"Elle?"

"Y-yes..." Elle blinked, voice soft.

I closed my eyes, thinking. She'd said she could build worlds...

"The worlds you build... Do they have to be the same ones? Your castle and the dungeon..."

Elle shook her head, "I can make anything I want, but it's easier if I use one if I've already made it before." That was kind of like how my power worked...

"Anything else?"

"It... It needs to... soak in." Elle frowned, her lips worked, "Everywhere around me, the longer my power works into it the faster it... faster it works..."

Hmm...

I glanced at the back of the Dispensary, at the other door, ajar. Slowly let out the breath I'd been holding.

I reached out and patted Mimi on her shoulder, unfortunately making her loose her concentration. The flower dissolved into a few motes of light, gone in a moment.

"I'm trying to come up with a plan in case that guy comes back. Can I count on you both to use your powers when I say?"

Mimi's eyes went very wide, but she nodded, "I... Yes." Her eyes shone, her shoulders straightened with purpose and she lifted her chin, "Yes. You can. You can count on me, Taylor!"

Elle blinked hard, "I... Its... Yes, I can."

I could work with that.


	14. Creche 2-5

**{A gathering of hatchlings in a nesting colony, tended to by different adult birds.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

We moved quietly, carefully. The smoke from the wastebasket fire I had Mimi set followed us out. Balled papers and folders crackling merrily, the sprinkler system raining down and the fire alarm blaring. The sprinklers didn't matter in the least, Mimi's power sustained the flame through the downpour and filled the room with steam.

The fire was insurance in the event we got cornered, an out for Mimi, and also a handy reference point. I was starting to get a feel of the floor layout here, it was coming faster than it had for me in the low-security ward. Maybe it was practice? Or maybe Elle's power had interfered more than I realized.

Either way, Mimi could use it to navigate, and through her I had a general idea of direction that I could also use.

With some luck, the alarm would also serve as a distraction if the masked man was trying to find a way to circle around and find a way back into the office where he had left us.

We kept moving. I led, tugging Mimi and Elle along behind me, feeling out the hallway, and pushing my power as hard as I could. Twice, I had us detour, with that sense of encroaching danger and helplessness closing in. It was like a bubble of silence- there was no other way to describe it. Which was strange, since I could still read inside it with my power- maybe a better way to put it was... I understood that inside the bubble it would be silent- I would be cut off.

I carefully peeked around a corner, the distant whine of the fire alarm, of the lock down alert, it was a howl echoing all around us. A patch of wall was raked with slashes, a crosshatching pattern carved into the paneling under an open ventilation duct. The metal cover plate was bent and twisted, the slates punched in. The square had been crumpled and crushed.

Smashed doors, furniture in the hall pulled from rooms and then abandoned. A couple cases of vandalism- lights smashed and the stuffing torn out of chairs, of graffiti scrawled messily and crudely over the walls. Everything was murky, lit by the rare emergency lighting, except when I found a light switch, which threw everything into harsh florescent clarity, which was somehow worse. It made me feel like an intruder, turning on all the lights in a house I didn't own. It made me nervous.

I had to stop once, to rest, my shoulder paralyzing me with fresh waves of pain. I hoped the first Doctor we met had the good drugs, something, anything. Mimi hovered nearby, her hand on my unburnt shoulder.

We turned a corner, and walked past a wall of portraits and framed art, miraculously almost completely intact. Simple, sometimes nonsensical things that could only have been painted by patients. Rough and almost indecipherable, like a toddler's finger-painting... I stopped to look at one, Elle's hand in mine, and Mimi wandered ahead a little, meandering past doors and looking in. I was transfixed by one drawing, hung in an over-sized frame that was askew, I straightened it. It looked like a field of stars, and above the stars, two-

It reminded me of something I'd written in my journal, weeks ago. When I'd gained my powers, I had seen something, something strange, unsettling. I didn't have words for it. But it had been important, I knew that.

I blinked when everything started to go quiet, then grabbed Elle's wrist and hurried after Mimi.

We were looking for a way up. Mimi explained that with the lock down in effect, most staff on these levels were secured in special panic rooms designed by Dragon. Security would ordinarily foam any rooms with patients causing problems, and be done with it, but Elle's powers had, in addition to scattering patients and staff all over the asylum, made that impossible.

"Why don't they just do that now, then?" I asked.

"I don't know..." Mimi replied, biting her lip, "Maybe... Maybe Elle's power shorted something out? I don't know what her power does to computers..."

Mimi thought about that, "Or Tinkertech." She added.

We discovered some of the foam sprinklers had gone off, and a room was completely filled with foam, it spilled out into the hall outside, we couldn't even get inside. I could... I could sort-of tell there were people there. Not frightened, not entirely settled, but safe for now, I thought. They would be all right.

Mimi's shoulders slumped, defeated, as I poked the foam, "I don't know another way through." She said, "That was the only other stairwell I've seen."

"Hmm." I pulled my finger back, and the foam stretched like rubber, the resistance increased with the distance stretched. My first guess was some kind of aerated polymer, designed for elasticity. But it was actually a protein... this stuff was organic? "We could try to find a way around?"

"We could," Mimi said, "But we'd be doing it blind. I, um, never really moved around much down here."

I experimented a little more, the foam streamer was longer than my arm at this point. I was reminded of this cooking show and super-stretchy dough...

"Elle..." I mused, "Do you think you could open a way around it?"

Elle looked up from where she was sitting, "I... think." She blinked slowly, "Mmm... Maybe could."

-frustration simmering, she had liked being able to talk-

I nodded, leaning back on my heels so the string was supporting my weight, "I can probably figure out where we'd need the hole, if you can-" the elastic string of foam snapped, leaving me suddenly tipping over backwards, for a moment, my mind blanked in surprise. As I fell, the sense of proportion, my surroundings and my place in them snapped in. I bent my spine and rolled with the inertia, coming back to my feet in one motion.

"Whoa." I said, a little disoriented.

Mimi and Elle both blinked at me, and I blushed, "Sorry."

The roving intelligence at the edge of my awareness shifted, the feeling of blankness, of silence, moved. The oppressive quiet pressed in, and the urgency of the danger behind us prickled on the back of my neck. "Um, I guess we'd better get moving, I think he's getting closer."

Mimi nodded, and bent to take Elle's hand, I took the other.

The problem was the layout of the asylum. I'd been paying a lot of attention to the structure as we moved, each block of offices was removed from any other by what sounded like empty space. This could be anything, from maintenance access to rooms with other high-security patients. I was already wrangling two of my own, but we needed to get out of this block.

We turned the corner to find a mess at the end of the hall, desks and chairs piled in a heap. Not all of them were intact, several had been smashed and it looked like one desk had been picked up and thrown. It was smashed to splinters and put a hole in the wall.

I felt my heartbeat pick up a bit at the sight. We turned around, and doubled back, but I hesitated a step, that had us back into the silence.

The world narrowed again, and Elle' steps picked up. Somewhere nearby a crash as a door splintered. My palms started to sweat.

We picked up the pace, running now. Even with her power shut down, Elle was lagging. She didn't have any muscle to speak of- she spent too much time out in her worlds, inactive. Mimi scooped her up and carried her. We ran past a break room, with coffee splattered all over the floor and a table tipped on one side. We passed two offices, and I skidded to a stop. We were at the foyer, the one with the dead receptionist. I couldn't hear the man behind us, but my power was still being blocked, he had to be close by. I stopped, breathing hard, taunted by that distant Exit sign behind the shutter.

Think!

"Come on!" I said, plucking at Mimi's shoulder and leading her back. We turned left this time, and left the foyer behind. But the Exit nagged at me, we needed to get out there.

Think, I needed to think. One step in front of the other, keep moving, but think.

Then, miraculously, my power started to come back. He must have taken a wrong turn. I bit my lip, glancing at Mimi, then back the way we had come. It was only a moment, and that distant impression of searching, the wall of blank approaching, of powerlessness. The Exit, so close, and yet so far.

We stopped, panting and sweating, and Mimi let Elle sink gently to the floor as we panted and fought to breathe.

"Mimi, do you know if..." I gasped, "If there's... service access?"

Mimi swayed, her hands on her knees. "You holding up?" I asked Mimi.

"Yeah." Mimi said, weakly, "Yeah."

I gave her a look, "You all right?" I asked.

"Elle's not that heavy," Mimi puffed, frowning a little. Elle was still red-faced, and looked like she couldn't decide if she was offended by that or not.

"Is there any service access?" I asked again, "You said utilities come in through a hub, where would that hub be?" There couldn't be only one set of stairs, even if it was normally restricted to staff, they had to exist.

"There... might be..." Mimi said, uncertainly, "I've never been in the service access. I... think I can find the door to service access, but I've never been in there."

"That's all right, I'll figure something out."

I nudged Elle with my foot, "Come on, Elle."

Elle got to her feet, slowly. She was exhausted, but didn't complain.

We skirted the wall of silence, I could feel an echo of the Masked Man's frustration, impotence.

Mimi led us around the outside of the office block, back through the Dispensary towards the break room. Our powers faded out again.

We'd never get out of here if he kept finding us. Think. Keep thinking. I was going about this all wrong.

...How would someone used to fighting- hunting- parahumans think?

"Hang on a second."

I opened a door as we passed, quietly. Then another. Closed another. We passed a janitorial closet with contents strewn everywhere, the Masked Man must have opened it earlier. I grabbed a broom and used it to move one of the ceiling tiles overhead ajar. I flicked a light switch off in an office as we passed.

Keep him guessing. Distract him. Miss-direct him. Waste his time. We couldn't fight him, so we needed to make it so a fight never happened.

Mimi picked up on what I was doing, and we detoured through the break room, turning on the television in the process. A talk show started playing... Someone had left a phone on the counter, and I snagged it as we passed.

"Okay, Mimi." I said, panting, I concentrated on the phone. It didn't have a password...

"Where..."

"Here, I think." Mimi said. We were standing under one of those placard signs, this one also displayed 'Exit', but it was hung over an unmarked door. It was heavy and thick, with a keypad set into the wall beside it.

"Elle, how fast can you work?" I said, eyeing the door.

Elle looked at it and her face fell, "Not fast."

Damn it.

"How long would it take?" I asked Elle, aware of the wall of silence hovering just feet away.

Elle bit her lip. She was staring at the sign. I could see the fear and doubt warring with hope and desperation, and just a bit of purpose. How often was she asked to make something with her power?

"A few minutes?" Elle said slowly, "It depends, if his field touches me again I'll have to start all over."

Right, right.

I stared at the door. I wasn't a good idea though, oh no, it wasn't. "Elle, if we leave you here so you have time to make something- make a way through- I can draw him away, can you do it?"

Elle turned and stared at me, eyes so wide and Mimi gasped, "Taylor, I... I don't think..."

"Can you?" I asked again.

Elle jerked her head once, nodding. "Y-yes."

"Good."

My power flickered again, "Get started now, I'll try and draw him away. When you have enough room, go and stand on the other side, I'll come back and run through. His power will close him off behind me."

Mimi shook her head slowly, "Taylor, you're too hurt. You won't be fast enough."

I gave Mimi a firm look, "Stay with her, Mimi. She'll need you to carry her." I said, and turned, the phone was in my hand, and a plan was growing clearer as I thought about it. It still wasn't a good plan.

"Be ready, I... I'll not have a lot of time to spare."

I would not have any time to spare at all.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I gripped the phone in my good hand, clenched tight to keep it from shaking, and thought about the layout of the offices, breakroom, and Dispensary in our little square of Alchemilla. More importantly, the halls connection them. Those were the lines of sight, and I'd need them to draw the Masked Man after me without getting too close to me. He was bigger, stronger, faster- if he got close enough to jump at me I'd probably be dead.

When the administrative block had gone into lock down and the shutters came down, what had resulted was roughly two long squares of offices set next to each other. We'd already seen most of it in our game of cat and mouse.

The foyer next to patient housing, and the computer room adjoining it, was the larger open space at the bottom of the first square, the Dispensary was at the other end, running up behind them, And the break room straddled the hallway between the squares. This irregular arrangement meant that sight-lines were easily broken, with blind corners I could hide behind.

It wasn't much, but I had to try, if Mimi and Elle were on the very edge of his field, then they would be sensed, or were about to be sensed. Elle couldn't run, and Mimi would never leave Elle behind. She'd never leave me.

The phone was a weight in my hands, I touched the clock app, and scrolled to the alarm, I turned the corner, walking through the break room, retracing our steps.

How much space did we need? His nullifying aura had never been very far away. His range was substantial, but it seemed to vary how far it actually reached.

My heart sank... I'd need to draw him pretty far.

A crash. Something rattled along the floor, and I slowed, before slowly peeking around the corner.

A hulking shape smashed a door, forcing its way into an office. I just caught a glimpse of a shoulder, leather and a metal brace. A huge hand gripped the doorframe, still stained red. There were other doors thrown open or smashed all down the hall, he was frustrated, trying to remove ways we could hide.

I hardly dared to breathe, and as slowly as I had peeked, I retreated. I moved back, turned and took the perpendicular fork away from Mimi and Elle, away from the Masked Man. I realized I was holding my breath and let it out in a gasp, and the sound frightened me almost as much as the sight of the Masked Man had.

I leaned against the wall, swallowed back the fear, and raised the phone.

I recited the series of steps, quickly visualized the route I would take, the actions. A smooth sequence of events. I took a breath. Closed my eyes... And opened them.

"This way!" I screamed, and took off, "Follow me, I know a way out!" I was running as fast as I could, headed back, towards the foyer.

Then the wall in front of me exploded, wood paneling went flying as he pushed through the wall as easily as pushing open a door and stepping into a room. Sheet rock crumbled around him and dusted his shoulders, chest, and the blood on his hands.

I caught myself, stumbling, and frantically turned to run back the way I'd come; slipped, stumbling, catching myself with my one good hand, and ran, one arm springing off the ground. Turning the corner another crash shuddered through the ground under my feet, and crushed the wall over my head, he'd swung at me, and the wall splintered.

"M-missed me!" I taunted, my voice just a squeak, hoping he would follow and dreading he would follow.

Thudding footsteps crashed, and I kept running, turned down the hall I'd seen him in first, past the broken doors, the Man crashing behind me.

I'd run before, with Mimi and Elle, I fled now. Panting, my one good arm dipping to spring off the floor when I turned a corner, the Man right behind me, just one step behind. A gust of wind ghosted the back of my neck, and my hair swept to the side- he was trying to grab my hair!

I burst into the foyer, the Man skidded with the turn, then fell to his knees, and I gained some space. Past the desk, I threw open the door to the darkened computer room before throwing myself flat on the floor and crawling for my life. He didn't even slow down, and crashed right through the glass, sending the glass in a wave across the room. He reached for a desk, and lifted it clear off the ground before throwing it, keyboards and screens and wires went flying. He picked up another and sent it end over end back into the foyer.

I crawled, arm over arm, pain with every movement, panting. I had to keep moving. The Man paused in destroying the computers, unsure, or searching, the mask swung back and forth in the dark.

In the corner, behind a desk, I watched his legs as he moved, pushing aside chairs, shifting desks. Somehow, in the confusion, and the tatters of my plan, I hadn't let go of the phone.

I let my head sink back, felt the tension in my shoulders. My shaking hands. I wished I'd come up with something better, this was stupid.

I tried not to think about it. I... I didn't want to die. But, I'd exhausted any hope I had that I could actually outrun him. I'd never been a hero, I didn't know how to do this.

But, I still had to try.

One more step, then get back as quickly as I could. I could do this.

I tapped the screen and threw the phone.

The phone slid along the floor, and the Man paused in lifting a desk.

I gathered my legs under me, steeling myself. Breath in, breath out.

The Man dropped the desk and turned, the faceless metal brace swinging across the room towards the sound.

Three, two, one.

He was almost facing away from me, just a little more...

The phone began to ring.

He swung to face the sound, stepping forward, knocking the desk in front of him aside with one arm.

I started to move, bent double, keeping my head bellow the desk tops. I heard more crashing as he threw desks and chairs. I didn't dare look. The door was hanging by on hing as I slipped out. A desk shattered on the floor to my right. I didn't stop moving, didn't straighten up. Not until I reached the hallway once more, and I broke out in a dead run. My powers faded in, around the same time, I heard the phone cut out.

I sprinted, running like I never had before. As soon as he realized I was gone, he'd be headed this way, after Mimi and Elle. Even if he didn't realize that was where I was headed too.

There was a distant crash behind me, my powers dimmed, and I went cold.

When I reached the break room the walls began to change. Carpet replaced with grass, wood paneling bled into worn stone blocks and vines. Elle was outside his power, she was working, I could only hope they were both out. Could only hope I could get out too. I didn't slow down, and ran headlong through the stone corridor, past sculpted, lichen-covered pillars slowly rising out of the ground.

Footsteps thundered on the floor, behind me, catching up.

No, not yet, I was so close.

I swung around the corner, and where the door had been, an arc of stone stood. And on the other side- Mimi hovered by the doorway. Further back, I could see Elle seated on the floor, head turned to see me, both hands raised to her mouth and eyes wide.

"Mimi! Elle!" I gasped.

"Taylor!" Mimi shouted, "Taylor, hurry!"

"It's going away!" Elle screamed. The footsteps were gaining. Elle's world was already retreating, fading, peeling back.

One step, and the grass was under my feet. Another, and it was carpet. The stone fled out in front of me, leaving the paneling. "Taylor! He's right behind you!"

Everything was pain, I was stumbling. Elle's world had reached the threshold, the door began to bleed through. Something flew from behind me, struck my back with enough force to throw me reeling, but it was a glancing blow, and I took two more steps. I tried to talk, but my tongue was thick in my mouth, I couldn't stop sobbing, it hurt so much. My arm was cradled to my chest, and I was aware of very little else. I bumped and jostled, I could barely see, my eyes were streaming with tears. The gap shrunk, but then I was through, tripping over the threshold. I fell, on my bad shoulder and the world shrank to a pinprick, and I swam back with spots floating in my vision.

I was on my back, staring at the door as Elle's world finished folded in on itself and vanished. For just a moment, I could see him, that awful metal mask and his hand raised as the door melted back into being. It shook a moment later, when he ran headlong into it, but not much. It was solid.

"Taylor! Oh no..." Mimi was crying. I didn't... I didn't know why. My mouth was dry, and my throat was raw, I wondered why she sounded so strange. I was the one whose tongue wasn't cooperating.

But my vision was darkening. The stress of the past hours, the running, the pain, the burns, it was all crashing now. I was done. We were safe and I was done. I didn't need to keep my eyes opened any more. I just... Laid there for a moment. Let myself rest, tried to stop crying. I didn't want to move, because moving meant it would hurt again. And I couldn't take more.

Mimi lifted her hand, and it... It was covered in red. I... I didn't...

"Easy, easy." Mimi hushed as she laid me down. I was not asleep. Everything flowed strangely, too slow. The world faded out, greyed. Grew distant.

I was cold.

When I emerged again, we were on the stairs, Mimi was carrying me. My vision swayed drunkenly.

I faded out.

We were at the top of the stairs.

"But. But, we have to help her, look at- at her arm! I can see the bone!"

"Elle," Mimi said, "Elle, I can't do anything. Neither of us can."

That was Elle? It sounded all wrong. Too angry... "Just- just shut up Mimi! You burned her in the first place!" said the stranger named Elle. The venom in her voice was sharp.

Mimi didn't say anything.

A blink, one moment to the next, but longer. Time flowed strangely.

"Freeze, don't move!"

"Help us! Please, help us!"

"I said freeze!"

Mimi standing over me, eyes glowing bright, with a narrow line of flame haloing her head in a flare of quick-dying light, "She's hurt, she's bleeding!"

Confusion, movement. Sound. Pain.

Faces moved above me, the light faded in and out. Eventually one stayed and hovered above me, someone fiddled with Mimi's bandages.

"Did you burn her, Mimi?" the careful, neutral tone of someone who knew the answer to their question.

Mimi mumbled her answer, I couldn't hear it.

Everything faded to white.


	15. Interlude - Summer Holiday

Sorry for the long delay.

As a REMINDER- The entire second arc is rewritten.

I have also posted an entirely new first interlude.

Enjoy

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

If she was asked why she had chosen this assignment, Summer would have said, because she didn't have the stomach for fieldwork anymore. And, with a decade fighting Accord's slow takeover of Boston with nothing to show for it but phantom limb and periodic visits to a physical therapist... There was some truth in that. A year ago she had been tired, and wanted somewhere she could work that didn't bring up reminders of her failures every day.

Damn you, Accord.

The room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Intensive care was almost empty at this hour. Auspice's room was empty except for Summer, and her two visitors, and she slept with an IV drip in her arm, and a heart monitor clipped to her finger. Her skin was that grey shade that came from true exhaustion. She looked tried, wrung out. She looked... small. Why did they always look so small?

The smell of lemon cleaner and antiseptic, the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. And that pain where her leg ought to be. Funny... How things come back to you.

"Is Taylor going to be all right?"

Mimi Harris, also known as Burnscar, was a skinny girl, pale. Standing with both arms wrapped around herself, shaking a little, she looked even smaller in a way that tugged at Summer's heart. It was hard to imagine she was eighteen. Her eyes belonged on an old woman. They had that depthless melancholy that Summer had seen once, in a camp filled with refugees. A tiny old woman sitting on a suitcase beside the kitchen line, alone in the morning, for breakfast. And leaving that camp, in the evening, Summer had seen her alone for dinner.

Burnscar turned to look at her and Summer realized she had taken too long to respond.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "She'll be all right, kid. She just needs sleep."

There was an in-house healer, Wine, a younger patient. His power was potent, but the recipient had to be conscious and at any rate, it left him wiped out for a couple hours after healing someone- Wine had been very busy today. Even with his healing, her shattered shoulder blade and collarbone had required surgery before Wine's power could be used. Fortunately, surgery had been uneventful, and Auspice was sleeping now. In the morning, if she and Wine were both up to it and amendable, she'd get healed the rest of the way. Summer hoped she took the chance when she had the opportunity. She'd have months of healing ahead of her otherwise. She might never heal, not fully.

Summer would know.

Auspice had ben a bit of an odd case. She'd come in as scared as any new trigger, as most one of the new triggers tended to be. Missing part of the anchor of their lives. After she had been released from isolation she'd immediately flourished. Summer had seen glowing testimonials from several staff regarding her efforts to reach out and connect with other patients. She seemed to lean towards outliers. Misfits. Auspice had a knack for collecting them. Glassboom and Sadboy had taken to her readily, but also Burnscar. Charnel.

And Labyrinth.

Labyrinth sat on a chair at the foot of Auspice's bed, stareing unblinking at the sleeping girl. As Summer watched, she reached out and laid a hand on Auspice's leg, patting her once. Summer regarded Labyrinth a long moment. Labyrinth had gotten people hurt today, and three of them had died.

Four hours of Labyrinth's world shifting, placeing hysterical patients and nervous doctors all over the place. Four hours trapped in a crater trying to impose something resembling order.

But she had come in, led by the hand, and sat without speaking. She talked in single words, but she was aware, she reacted when asked what had happened. Something like this usually sent her into fugues that lasted weeks, sometimes deep enough that she required help eating, bathing, using the toilet. She could spend days stareing into space, lost in her worlds. Near catatonia. And this time... her power had never manifested on a scale like this before.

Patients with a violent history almost never got approved for release, never escaped the orange. Not even under the authority of three therapists and the Faculty Director, as regulations stated.

Any recommendation for release had to be submitted to the Faculty Director, a process that typically took two weeks, or longer. Assuming the Faculty Director had no objections, your recommendation then had to be submitted to the PRT, their Board of Directors had to okay the release. The average waiting period for board approval was four months. During that time patients were surrounded at all times by parahumans in potentially worse states of mind. In that situation all it would really take was time, another patient being jealous, just an opportunity.

And it really took so little, confined with a few dozen others in the same wing of one building they could not leave.

It was faster, of course, to apply for Protectorate membership first. A patient could, actually. In doing so, there was a loophole that allowed said patient to skip the Faculty Director, and the PRT Board. Since they are already Protectorate affiliated they technically only require the go-ahead from a PRT affiliated Councilor and Psychiatrist, who then submit a report to the PRT board for review, but did not actually require approval before that patient can be released into PRT custody. It took two weeks, sometimes less.

But not all were willing, or capable, and despite the front that Protectorate Public Relations put forward, not all parahumans were admitted. Some patients couldn't use their powers in a constructive way.

Summer thought the system unfair, cruel; and certainly dehumanizing, treating lives as resources. It left them with a very narrow route out of Alchemilla, one not all could qualify for, and it legally cornered them.

She had already seen a memo circulating, Labyrinth's threat classification was being bumped up; for once, Burnscar wasn't taking center stage in this latest catastrophe, but that was small comfort, because the scale dwarfed anything Mimi had ever done. New procedures had been drawn up for handling Labyrinth and regulating her powers. Suggestions. Plans for a… a bracelet or collar with knockout drugs, a tripwire that could be remotely activated, a last resort.

Summer hoped it didn't come to that.

Because this was the most animated Summer had ever seen Labyrinth, and as level as she had ever seen Burnscar.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Summer left the girls in the vigilant company of an orderly one hour later. Elle had fallen asleep laid out across three chairs, and Burnscar was dozing on a chair with Labyrinth's head on her lap. She wished she could follow suit, just pull up a chair, lean back and nap for a couple hours. But she had a laundry list to fill out first, one of those had recently moved to the top, and she needed to check in on Cassandra on the way.

The infirmary's other patient was two doors down, also being watched by a member of Alchemilla's Protectorate contingent. Though as she approached she heard the sounds of a scuffle and broke into a run.

When she threw open the door she assessed the situation in a glance, and breathed a momentary sigh of relief- it was nothing, it looked like Cassandra had just woken up and panicked, finding herself in an unfamiliar place -before rushing to help Moonsmile, Doctor Peterson and an orderly wrestle Cassandra back into bed.

It was a welcome change from the chaos that the day had been, even with Cassandra bucking and squirming

"Can someone give her another traq?" Summer demanded.

Her voice was more nasal than usual, and blood was streaming down her chin from her nose. Cassandra leaned forward sharply, then snapped her head bac, but this time Summer was ready, and only took it on her chin.

Cassandra was screaming, wrapped in a straightjacket, repeatedly ramming her head into Summer's face, babbleing and frothing at the mouth. Summer held her, keeping her from bashing her own brains out, an orderly wrangled her legs and frantic Doctor Peterson slapped another patch on her neck. Summer thanked god for Tinker medicine as Cassandra finally went limp.

"Heh." Summer laughed, just a bit, and swept the girl up in her arms before she fell to the floor, and deposited her on a bed again with the help of the orderly. A husky guy, nice man, nametag read O'Neil.

"Thank you, 'mam." He rumbled and Summer slapped him on the shoulder.

"Moonsmile, how're you holding up?"

Moon was seated on the next bench, one leg bouncing impatiently, the other elevated in a cast. It was some new Tinkertech stuff, a form fitting spray-on foam that would have her walking like it had never broken inside a week, she could even limp on it now, but she was in no shape to be wrestling anyone. She was supposed to just be there to watch Cassadra, and couldn't have helped much even if she wanted. Cassandra waking up through her medications had probably taken the attending orderly by surprise.

"Yeahsurebossgottahealmylegitsnobiggiejusttakesfuckingforever" A slight pause in the rush of words, "Wowniceshineryournoseisbrokentoo."

Summer deciphered that for a moment.

"You think so?"

"Hellyeahyoulooklikeyoumashedgrapesonyourface."

... Well, that was an accurate description of how Summer felt at the moment.

Usually Moon was always bounceing in place, danceing from foot to foot. It couldn't be helped, Moon sitting still meant the whole world stood still, to her. Moonsmile's power made her perceive time proportional to how much she was moving, which meant Summer had to look like she was moving through molasses right now. It leant itself to unique discipline problems. Working with her had taken getting used to.

It also meant Summer understood how frustrating sitting there had to be for Moon.

"At least you still look pretty." Summer said, "Hey, Doc, how's she?"

Doctor Peterson looked up from Cassandra's wrist, where he had been monitoring her pulse, "She's stable, but you know how she gets. She'll need to be kept under observation."

Summer sighed, then glanced at Moon.

"Sure Doc. Moon? Look pretty for both of us, will you? I'm going to check in with Grudge."

"Awyouresosweetbosssurething."

Summer stepped away from Moonsmile, off down the hall a few steps.

...tap...tap...tap. Metal on every second step.

Summer tapped her ear, and the small tinker earpiece there flicked on.

"Summer here, Grudge. Master Stranger Protocol, ninty five june."

"Grudge, acknowledged." He growled in her ear, "Baby blue twelve."

"Acknowledged." Summer replied, "How's Victim?"

"Still sleeping." A quick rustle in the background, "Stable. Little shit."

But it had been a close call. She'd shown up at a panic room, mixed in with a dozen patients and staff. When someone had realized who she was, she had nearly had a panic attack, and nearly activated her power.

Summer Holiday's mouth pursed, choosing the battle she wanted to fight, "She's a kid, a scared little kid."

A breif pause, "At least she didn't kill anyone."

That was difficult to argue with. Summer took a steadying breath.

"Please remember why we're here, Tom." She said.

Summer glanced back at Moon and Doctor Peterson, O'Neil, "You guys going to be all right?"

"Surethingboss."

"Uh, thank you Summer Holiday, yes."

"Great, I got places to be. Got to show our guests out and yell at the director while I have the chance."

Burnscar, Labyrinth, and even Cassandra would not be returning to the Medium Security wing for at least a few days. Damage assessment wasn't in yet, but there had been a major fire in records, and a fault in the foam dispersal and dissolving, system meant that there were still rooms, and even entire blocks of offices and cells still buried in foam that would need careful excavation to find patients and staff trapped within. It was going to take hours.

Thank god there was no worry of them suffocating, the foam was porous enough to alleviate that worry even in long term suspension. No danger of starving or dying of dehydration either, since the foam naturally began to break down after six hours.

God, Summer hoped that it didn't come to that, there were enough hysterical people in Alchemilla as it was. Security would be running double and triple shifts for the next month. She'd already filled out acquisition forms for an additional contingent of PRT agents to fill in and ensure her people had time to sleep somewhere in that mess. A request for three more Protectorate Capes. It didn't help that they were overcrowded, there wasn't enough funding to expand staff. There wasn't enough funding to expand the hospital iteslf, or refurbish the unused sections.

The laundry list went on and on.

Summer took the stairs to central admin, it gave her time to collect her thoughts and passed a Doctor stooping to talk quietly with a sobbing man in blue scrubs. Past a knot of children, a boy and a girl in blue and one orange girl, tagging along with a nurse like ducklings around their mother. A team of five technicians with toolboxes and two security escorts. One of the troopers offered her a stiff nod as they passed.

Summer offered a nod in turn.

Her course passed a receptionist desk, unmanned. Some staff had gone home hours ago. Others would be working double shifts for months to come.

The Director would be lucky to leave at all for the next couple days, even with his imminent retirement; and, as Summer pushed open the door to his office, she found him at his desk. But not alone.

He was accompanied by a woman carrying a lantern, a man in a red suit with a white domino mask, a woman in white and blue. Revel, Usher, Rime. And a man dressed in the armor of a medieval knight, she felt herself smile, and straightened, it was like a weight had lifted.

Good old Chevalier, straightforward, to the point.

Director Foster looked up, "Oh, Holly. I'm surprised to see you."

"Summer Holiday," Chevalier nodded, "I understand you wanted to talk with us later?"

"I did, yes." Summer said, "I just have a few questions for the Director."

He turned back to the Director, "If that's all?"

"Of course." Director Foster said.

Chevalier turned and clapped her on the shoulder, "We'll talk when you're done."

They filed out, and Summer Holiday closed the door, tugging her mask down with one finger, "Director."

Offices were one of those places that were a litmus of an individual's life. There were others, the basement, the garage, the attic, the bedroom; they were personal places, places that where important, that were used- but also places that were not strictly public, personal. It led to a lot of personality, and sometimes surprises.

As the director packed his up, put away the desk clock and the framed diplomas and the photographs, took everything down from the walls and emptied the shelves- filling the boxes, a picture began to emerge. Director Foster rarely looked at his class photograph. A number of books sat on his shelves, crisp and new and unused, decorative. A short stack of old subscriptions to art magazines, creased.

A clay figurine sat on a shelf already empty, neglected and forgotten.

"What's this?"

Director Foster paused, looking over from the box currently sat atop his desk, and the clock in his hands. He cocked his head to one side, contemplating the ceramic effigy in her hands.

"I don't actually know," he decided.

Summer glanced back at the… thing… the clay thing. It was fired clay, with a transparent glaze. Roughly half of it was painted bright red, the rest was white and black, and kind of reminded her of a lumpy table. Or maybe a castle. She turned it over, experimenting with the fresh perspective. One of the legs was much thicker than the others, molded into… into.

Maybe it was a dog? Those two lumps might be ears…

"I think it was a gift, from one of my earliest patients." Director Foster decided, and put the clock in the box.

His office was a mess of boxes and file folders. Most of the paperwork was processed electronically these days, but hard copies were still used. It always left Summer a little bemused to imagine- Alchemilla was a premier facility, with cutting-edge equipment donated by Dragon, with security comparable to the Birdcage, yet it still didn't have a paperless faculty.

It might be related to the disconnect of jurisdiction found in Alchemilla. Alchemilla was actually staffed by the PRT, which necessitated no parahumans on the payroll, outside the security staff. Dragon, as a parahuman herself, was in some ways more relatable to many of the patients, some of which were recovering from severe upheavals of their lives. She invested a great deal of time in the patients, and had almost entirely unrestricted access to Alchemilla. This was in addition to her responsibilities to the Guild, managing the Birdcage, and participation in every Endbringer fight. All that, and she was not officially on the faculty staff.

But Dragon was limited to electronics, she couldn't access hard copies.

Thus, the staff and their paper records.

Musings on the rumors of international politics and the relationship of the Guild to the PRT and Protectorate aside, Summer refocused on the Director, setting the figurine down on the shelf once more.

"What can I do for you, Holly?"

She crossed the room and stood beside the chairs, arms crossed, "I want to know why I can't find any records attached to that power nullifier down in High Security." Summer said.

The Director glanced at her, eyes narrowed slightly, and Summer Holiday debated the benefits of pushing harder. Let him talk, and let him guide the conversation, or probe for more and risk him clamming up?

"I'm afraid there isn't much to say." Director Foster said, "His records are sealed by court order."

"I could go to the board of directors," Holly replied. Her voice was even, but Director Foster frowned. That was a veiled threat and he knew it.

"You would have to go to the PRT national board. His record is sealed under subsection four, with Black authorization clearance. You would need to go to Costa-Brown herself to get it unsealed." Director Foster said.

"I could circumvent that, purview as head of security." Holly replied, not quite glaring, but Director Foster sat back a bit all the same.

Director Foster sighed, "I couldn't help you, not even if I wanted to. As of today I've resigned. I was retireing anyway, it isn't much of an imposition. But, as such, there technically isn't a Director over Alchemilla at the moment."

"In which case, authority and clearence defaults to the PRT regional office." Holly leaned back, crossing her arms. Fuck.

"I'm sorry, Holly." Director Foster said. He did look apologetic, but it still left a sour taste in Summer's mouth.

Director Foster stood. He was a wiry man in his late forties. Still fairly spry, with an unlined face and grey creeping into otherwise brown hair. He circled around the desk to stand beside her, "For what it's worth, I'm willing to make a formal request for disclosure, but I'm not sure how much good it'd do."

It wouldn't do any good, Summer knew. She took a deep, steadying breath, and let it out- she had to choose which battles she fought with the bureaucracy. Best case scenario, it got put on a back burner until a new Director was selected, which could be weeks or potentially months down the line. Worse case could have her reassigned. And the spiteful case scenario could have her requested staff and equipment delayed. It rankled. She had bigger things to worry about right now; someone had to, and it was in her job description. This unlisted murderous patient was not an immediate problem and would simply have to wait.

"All right." Summer sighed, pulling her mask back up, "Before I go and hit up Chevalier for some drinks, have you decided what to do about Lizard Prince."

"He's getting fast tracked," Director Foster said without hesitation, "He's causing too many problems and doesn't want to be helped. We have enough problems as it is."

The Birdcage was something that weighed on Summer's conscience more often than she would ever care to admit. At Alchemilla she was one of the voices that had a say in who had been given their final chance, who was beyond help. But as she watched Director Foster sign his last official transfer as Director of Alchemilla, damning Lizard Prince, and she couldn't help but agree. Lizard Prince was going to the 'Cage if it was the last thing she did and good riddance.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

After her unrewarding and unfulfilling discussion with Director Foster, Summer was looking forward to a few minutes to talk to Chevalier. Then maybe grab a few minutes of sleep.

The Protectorate contingent had gathered at the central security station, which was at the moment overpopulated with every warm body on her staff. Nobody was taking a day off now, and with Labyrinth's crater gone, the rest of Alchemilla's staff was mustering to deal with cleanup. The halls were getting crowded.

Double and triple shifts for the foreseeable future...

The Protectorate heroes were arranged in a loose knot around one of the flimsy plastic tables drinking coffee, masks, visors, and helmets lifted or pulled aside.

Revel, Usher, Rime, just like old times; four others whose costumes were unfamiliar. Had it really been so long?

"Holly!" Rime swept her into a hug, Usher joined in, and even old Chev gave her a pat on the shoulder. Daphne, Garry, Hector.

"It's good to see you all again," Holly said, and she was almost laughing

Like they were all back in the Wards again, it had her feeling all mushy and sentimental.

They sat down, which made the past day weigh a lot more heavily on her than she'd realized. It felt good to just sit down. The coffee helped too.

"It's not Boston." Summer said truthfully, and there was some relief to actually say it, "It's not fighting Accord. And I think, all this aside, I like it."

"It did get kind of hairy down there for a bit." Usher said.

"If you'd told me, what this job would actually entail, I don't think I would have taken it." Summer said bleakly, then ruined it when she snorted, "It makes you think, working here. In Alchemilla there are real people who have made mistakes, or who have lost control of their own lives. Or their powers are dangerous, and some of them are sick. It's... Not like Boston. Not like patrols, or fighting Accord." Not like it at all.

There were times when Summer was on the streets and she asked herself if she was making a difference. Sometimes it felt like she was just filling a quota, a formality. It was strange, because when she had come to Alchemilla, burnt out and exhausted, and hurting from the indignity or reposting... She had considered it a punishment.

"I, actually, I kind of like it here." Summer said, " It feels like I'm really making a difference. An impact on someone's life. Even if it can be frustrating with all the red tape."

"Really?" Usher laughed, "It sounds like one of my Youth Guard horror stories. Soccer moms and teachers, telling us we're here to ruin their kids."

Summer sighed and punched him lightly in the shoulder. But she didn't smile.

They lapsed into silence, Summer staring into her coffee. Staff came and went in a frenetic bustle as the crisis continued on its course.

There was a boy that came to mind, a former Ward that had a nervous breakdown a year before. Really nice kid who wanted to make a difference in the world, but not a fighter. Didn't have the stomach for it, didn't have the stomach for his power.

But somehow that was all the Wards was for anymore.

Summer swirled the coffee in her cup, but all she said was, "Things have changed, since we were in the Wards."

The silence was uncomfortable this time.

"I've never seen a Shaker effect on that scale. Who created it?" One of the new faces said, a man wearing what looked like... A Tinkertech castle on his shoulders? Some kind of Tinker maybe? Summer squinted at him.

"Prefab," Chevalier introduced, "Shaker. Creates structures out of energy. He was working on a way to get us in while the crater was still there."

Another Shaker...

Summer narrowed her eyes, "Her name's Labyrinth. She creates imaginary worlds and can infuse her surroundings, overwrite reality with them. Like a pocket dimension. But she's never manifested on this scale before."

It was going to mean a real headache sometime after the immediate cleanup was over...

"If it means anything, I have, actually heard of another Shaker on that scale- Ziggurat."

Prefab frowned, placing the name, "The Yangban's Terrekinetic?"

Summer nodded.

One of fresh faces cleared his throat, "I thought you had to sign a thick stack of non-disclosure agreements to even get close to this place?"

"Hmm? Talking about Labyrinth? Well, you asked." Summer replied, "I'm bending the rules. NDA doesn't apply when talking with Protectorate capes, within certain parameters, on the off chance that we need to tell you about powers and individual situations." She replied, "Also, it just so happens as head of security I have discretion of disclosure."

One of her uniformed guys in armor stopped by their table, politely clearing his throat. Jake Machnimera, good guy, reliable.

Summer stood, "All right. Back to the salt mines." Summer stretched, and her back popped. That nap would probably have to wait, "Not enough warm bodies to go around."

"Actually, we might have a solution to that." Chevalier said, and nodded to a woman. Green costume, leaves and vines, her mask looked like leaves. New face.

She leapt to attention, raising one hand in salute, which left Summer Holiday a little bemused. "Kudzu, at your service!" she chirped.

Chevalier put a hand on each of their shoulders, "Kudzu is a cloner, self only, but her clones can also make clones. No limit to how many. That makes her one of the strongest on the Protectorate roster. You wouldn't mind us giving her to you on loan for a month or two, would you?"

Summer narrowed her eyes.

"Why the sudden generosity? Do you have any idea how hard I've been pushing for an expansion of the Protectorate contingent here?" The three man team was a holdover from the earliest days of the program, back when a small dedicated team had been enough to handle the residents.

Chevalier didn't answer. Instead Kudzu herself spoke up, "I've been posted in Boston, and I've heard a lot about what it was like when you were there. I'd like to work with you, see what it's been like here."

Summer stared narrowly at Kudzu. "This isn't going to be anything like street patrols." Summer said at last.

"I've been to three Endbringer fights, and I helped wrestle down that power canceler down too." Kudzu said, "I can be everywhere at once!"

Summer stared at her a moment, "Show me your power"

Kudzu blinked, then shrugged in a 'go with it' sort of way, and suddenly there were two Kudzu. The original was immediately identifiable because she leaned to the side, one hand on her hip. The other just kind of stood there with an empty look.

Summer slowly turned to stare at the Kudzu.

"You and I are going to become best friends."


	16. Altrical 3-1

**{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Awareness returned in soft gradients. First was sensation on my skin, softness, I was on a bed, there were smooth sheets, a pillow at my back. My head felt like it was full of cotton too, soft.

Everything was soft, the light was wrong, my head felt like it was barely attached to my shoulders. Everything felt distant, slow and ponderous. Something beeped nearby, steadily and rhythmically. There was something else, a sound, like... like... snoring? I couldn't see. Everything smelled clean, smelled of soap and lemon.

I sat there, listening to the beep, until I it occurred to me that my eyes were closed. Weird. Shouldn't I have noticed that? That sounded like the kind of thing I ought to have noticed.

Opening them took a monumental effort, like lifting a car. There was a florescent light over my head, I stared at it. For a while I couldn't move and for the life of me, I couldn't think of a single reason I'd want to. My eyes itched.

As I lay there, a face intruded into my vision, blurry and indistinct. It took me a few seconds to realize I wasn't wearing my glasses. I experienced a moment of panic, but it... panic felt like such effort. I didn't have much energy to spare to it.

The shape moved, it was pale, framed with a white halo that I realized was hair, "Tay..."

I blinked, "Elle."

My throat was raw, it hurt a little, to talk. Moving was painful too, but I slowly turned my head. Elle was leaned over me, sitting beside my bed and blinking down at me.

"You okay, Elle?" I asked. She seemed okay, but I couldn't be sure, I couldn't see her very well.

She didn't say anything, but after a moment she raised her hand to touch my forehead.

 _-stressed; worried, fretful; afraid she would die, afraid I would die, afraid Mimi would die-_

My power was more agile than my mind at that moment, and I drifted from breath to breath with the new information before I sighed. The medication didn't stop the pain, not all of it, but it did let me stop worrying about it. I think my arm was bandaged? Either way, I found it difficult to care. It was difficult to care, like I was detached from myself, from the pain, from the troubles of the world around me. It let me drift comfortably in the embrace of a soft haze.

Elle lifted her hand and patted me on the forehead again. She made a wordless but emphatic sound, it sounded like an admonishment.

"I was worried about you too, Elle." I rasped. I gently moved her hand, "Have you seen my glasses?"

She sat, staring at me blankly. Then, she stood and walked off into the blurry haze. I squinted, looking for shapes the right color to be people. There was a blob of orange, but it was the wrong shape...

Elle hovered near the blob, until the blob unfolded from the chairs and stood up.

"Taylor!" Mimi gasped, "I-I have your glasses!" She hurried over, a blurry orange shape- and slipped my glasses over my ears. Suddenly I could see. Blurs resolved into sharp, clear lines and I blinked.

Elle and Mimi didn't look like I remembered- bloodied, seared, exhausted. They had new scrubs. Elle's hair had been brushed, and they had washed. There was a bruise on Mimi's jaw I didn't remember though.

I was laying in a bed. My scrubs were gone, there was a needle in my arm, an IV drip. Looking down, I realized that where one of my arms was hooked to the drip, the other was immobilized in a sling. A machine beside my bed beeped in time with my heartbeat. The walls were cream and there were chairs against the walls, a closed door at the far end of the room. Everything was colored in muted shades. I was in the infirmary. I... I could not remember how we'd escaped. It was all a jumble of noise and voices and sensation. Pain. But dull, distant. The world was muted.

I wondered if this quiet emptiness was because it had been so long since I'd slept. It was... A surprisingly humanizing experience.

Articulating waking up itself was surprisingly difficult. I hadn't appreciated the strangeness of living without a real sleep cycle, experiencing this kind of awakening was like coming back to a good book I'd used to love but hadn't read in years. I'd missed it, and remembered it wrong. I had never realized how much I missed it.

I'd... I had been hit, right? I tried to sit up straighter, and a spike of pain ran through my shoulder, arm, down one side of my body to my toes. Ow. I sucked in a sharp breath. Ow.

"Taylor, don't try to move!" Mimi said.

"Yeah. Not doing that again." I said, and tried to smile a bit.

Mimi sniffled a bit, refusing to look at me, but Elle walked over to sit beside my bed again, frowning solemnly.

Someone knocked on the door, "Come in!" Mimi called. That was all right, I didn't feel particularly inclined to speak loudly at the moment.

"Oh, hello. You're awake." It was a man, an orderly. With my mind muzzy as it was I didn't recognize him immediately- Lars, the orderly from the cafeteria. Big and burly, and concerned, could feel his worry.

"Lars?"

"Yeah." He stepped to my bedside and glanced at the machines I was hooked up to, picked up a clipboard hung on the wall and leafed through it, making considering noises, "Doctor Lafayette wanted someone you knew present when you woke up, so here I am. "

"What about Mimi and Elle?" I asked.

"There was a fire down in medium security. We're shuffling people around for now, Lafayette didn't think there would be any harm in letting them wait with you."

Mimi looked extremely uncomfortable. Oh, that was her fire, I think... Right. I tried to think, to chose a question, but I kept... Drifting...

"I'm on the good drugs?" I asked.

"Many good drugs," Lars laughed, "All the good drugs."

"Oh." I thought about that, "I guess that makes sense." I was feeling pretty floaty.

I thought about that as Lars fiddled around with the equipment. "How bad is it?"

"Your shoulder?"

"Yeah, all of it?"

"Not too bad." Lars said, and gave me a meaningful glance, "You were in rough shape when they brought you in, though. Doctor Peterson or Lafayette will be by soon, to talk to you about some options we have available here at Alchemilla."

"Options?"

"Specialty options."

I blinked slowly at that, processing. The cobwebs in my brain were still clearing. Specialty options sounded like a euphemism, or... Or something. There was an emotional undercurrent I couldn't place, I wasn't sure what to call it. It was complicated. Some kind of special program for injured parahumans? Tinker medicine? A healer maybe? I'd heard of stuff like that, but it was rare.

Shifting mental gears took too long, but the time I'd formulated some questions to ask, Lars was pulling up a little cart to my bedside which forestalled any additional conversation, the smell hit me first. Rich and urgent, it awoke a primal need deeply seated inside me; that cart had food and I was hungry enough to eat a horse.

Lars set out a tray for me, one that hooked on to the rails on either side of my bed so I didn't need to juggle the tray, my sandwich, my bowl, and and a spoon at the same time. There were two other trays for Mimi and Elle too.

Mimi pulled up a chair beside Elle and helped her to eat. I didn't wait for them though. It tasted incredible, and I inhaled it. Even after finishing my ham sandwich, apple, and tomato soup, my empty stomach still felt like it had plenty of rattling empty space left over. I was also a little dizzy, maybe moving that quickly had been a bad idea.

"Wait, what time is it?" I asked, I had no idea how long I had been out, or even a real measure of how long the crisis with Labyrinth's world had run. "What day is it?"

Lars sat down in one of the chairs, clasping his hands thoughtfully, "It is about nine thirty, you were out for... Oh, about thirteen hours. I'd say you slept, but the docs were saying it was more a healing coma, something about you not being able to sleep." he shrugged.

Oh. Hmm. I sighed, my tray had not been an especially large lunch, but my reserves were very low at the moment. I just... wanted to lay there right now.

Mimi and Elle ate their lunch, Mimi had to help Elle with the soup. She spilled the first two spoonfuls down her shirt. Mimi surprised me, with how patient she was with Elle, I could sense that seesaw of emotions in the background. It was strange, I hadn't picked up on that before. Was it because I was more familiar with her now, or because there weren't a lot of other problems diverting my attention?

I closed my eyes, counting the motes of familiarity. Mimi- fretful, ashamed, emotions swinging, seesawing. Elle- a kaleidoscope of colors, a sense of place and creativity. Heather, Nick, Charnel. Others, further away, dimmer and less familiar to me, not as clear.

I could hear someone walking through the hall, outside my door. Brisk steps, heels echoing off the tile.

The heels stopped outside my door, and I opened my eyes as the knob turned. The door opened and admitted a woman with steel-grey hair pulled away from her face in a severe bun, glasses, and a slightly sour expression.

"Hello, Auspice, how are you feeling?"

"Better." I said, her nametag read Lafayette.

"Good to hear." Doctor Lafayette said, "Wayland, anything to report?"

"No 'mam."

Doctor Lafayette pulled up a chair of her own. My bed was flanked by chairs by this point, Mimi and Elle on one side, Lars and Doctor Lafayette on the other.

"At Alchemilla we have some options many hospitals would not have available." Doctor Lafayette said, "If you're up to it, I'd like to get into what we have."

"Okay." I said.

She lifted a clipboard, glancing across notes, a pen tapping idly in one hand. "Broken clavicle- that's your collarbone -second and third degree burns all across your left arm. Extensive lacerations. Most people would be looking at a long recovery period and physical therapy. We have conventional rehabilitation of course. If you go that route, you would be looking at a lengthy recovery period. This is a viable option, your injuries, while serious, are stable. It would be months before using your arm again is feasible, however."

Doctor Lafayette gave me a meaningful glance, "That is one option."

"Option two?" I asked. I think the good drugs were starting to wear off a bit, the distance I'd been enjoying was starting to fade.

Doctor Lafayette nodded, "Option two, we have an in-house healer. A patient, he goes by the moniker 'Wine'. He is a minor power granter, and his healing is very potent, but some find it unpleasant."

She glanced at meaningfully, "For the record, I will prescribe physical therapy regardless, it speeds recovery and helps you get reaquainted with your body after a major physical trauma like this one."

I immediately didn't like option one. Even if this week was some kind of hoodoo, a statistical outlier, I didn't want to be stuck with only one arm for any length of time. It'd been maddening and torturous for just the few hours I'd been forced to work around my arm dead weight in a sling. I couldn't imagine being stuck in a bed, unable to get up and unable even to sleep. I'd lose my mind.

"When..." I coughed, my mouth was dry, "Can I meet him? Wine?"

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Doctor Lafayette led in a second Doctor, who she introduced as Peterson. A thickset man, his hair was black, but graying at the temples. He looked like I guessed I probably did, tired and ruffled and creased.

And a boy in blue scrubs who was introduced as Wine, who Doctor Peterson led by the hand, and stared into the middle distance with a faint, unfocused smile.

The boy in blue had short brown hair and brown eyes, and looked just a touch... vacant. It was hard to place, but I suspected he had a condition like Elle's. I was intrigued as Wine walked to my bedside, guided by Doctor Peterson. When Doctor Lafayette was finished with introductions, I got to talk with Wine.

"Hi, there." I said.

"Hello." Wine said, "I'm... I'm..." He frowned.

"Wine," Doctor Peterson frowned, "It's Wine."

Wine stared into the middle distance, Silent for several moments as he processed that, "I think it used to be different." He said.

I smiled faintly- my power sensed only vague goodwill from him. He was cheerful, even... in a simple, unfocused kind of way.

"How does his power work?" I asked.

Doctor Peterson looked faintly uncomfortable, "Wine's power allows him to shapeshift into liquids with different properties. Some of them can... Er...produce specific and pronounced effects. In essence, he is, um, a minor power granter."

"Ah..." I said. I closed my eyes, resting a moment. Being awake was triing, and if I was being honest, I'd already decided.

"Okay, let's... Do this." I said. I was tired of being bedridden.

"All right." Doctor Lafayette said, and patted Doctor Peterson on the shoulder, "Your show Horace."

Doctor Peterson knelt and helped Wine roll up his sleeve. Wine turned to look up at him, face blank and vacant. "Wine, she's going to need to drink some of you, okay?"

"'kay." The boy said.

I opened my eyes, blinked, I stared at Doctor Peterson with wide eyes. "W-wait. Stop, what? What did you say?"

"It doesn't hurt him!" Doctor Peterson assured me quickly, "It just tires him out, and... Well, it can look a little disturbing, and might be a little disorienting."

Yes. I could imagine it might. At my right, Mimi looked a little green around the gills herself.

While I was still frozen in silent horror, Wine lifted his hand, which became partially transparent, like green glass, starting at the tips of his fingers, moving down from the tips and remaining more substantial closer to his palm. The effect continued, down his wrist, to his arm. He held out his bottle-green wrist, and the fingers that now resembled green glass, holding it under my nose.

"Here." He said, smiling a little vacantly.

I leaned back, and went a little cross-eyed trying to look. Even though I really didn't want to look.

"I. Um."

Reading off him was disconcerting. He was like Elle, there was a separation in his mind, his power gave him a perspective, enforced a certain mode of thought. I remembered my initial impression: his power dealt with energy, forms of energy, of transmission of that energy from one state to another. Organic energy? Was that why he could heal, his power allowed him to energize cells in specific ways?

No, focus. My arm needed healing, he was offering to heal it. Could he?

Did I want him to?

I narrowed my focus to his hand, the fingers he had changed; his wrist, his arm. I could sense the way he had empowered the liquid. It... It wasn't part of his body, or my power didn't register it as such. I tried to call it something, pin a name on it, and the closest comparison I could manage was the lights- the beams of energy from the fight in the sun room. Blake, with his hands glowing, his hands trailing light in the air. A projection of something else from his body, using a power. It was some kind of construct? It would... Yes. It would heal Wine, if it remained part of him... attached to him? Whichever. If I drank it, I would receive a diminished and diffused effect, a temporary one throughout my entire body. Drinking his... arm... would heal me. It was still stomach turning. I swallowed hard.

"Here." Wine said again, waving his hand. Like I'd overlooked it and needed reminding. That vacant smile remained.

He was standing close by, close enough we were almost touching, and I could sense... I sensed nothing but general helpfulness, that same simple good will, from him.

"T-thanks." I said.

'Drink' some of him? I peered at his arm, moving my head a little back and forth, like I was finding a good angle. I opened my mouth and- gently, bit down on his wrist.

It was warm. A little warmer than I expected, softer than skin would have been. Not like glass- semi liquid, like... jello? It had a weird smell. Chemical. Sharp. A little like a cheap soda. But not exactly unpleasant. I didn't know what I had expected, but that was not it.

I hesitantly sucked a little, and it filled my mouth. A moment of surprise at the force of it, before the taste hit me.

It was... It was... I didn't have words for it. It was like every nerve was on fire, fully charged, energized in a way I couldn't describe. It hit me and, unthinking, I swallowed greedily.

A few seconds passed in this state.

And then, a few more.

I came back to myself suddenly as Wine's knees began to buckle, and I hurriedly drew back from his arm, from the sensation. There was liquid running down my chin, I wiped at it, that same warmth, elation, warring with a distant sense of horror, of disgust; and also a remote notion of fascination. I held my fist to my lips and breathed. It was easier already. Wine's limbs were floppy and translucent, Doctor Peterson helped him sit down.

"Do you... Feel better... Auspice?" Wine asked, his eyelids fluttered, but he was smiling faintly.

"... A lot better," I admitted, honestly. Better than 'better' in fact... I felt.

Warmth settled in my stomach, moved out into my limbs and... It was one of the strangest sensations I had ever experienced- it felt like itching, but not. Like... tickling, or squirming? Numbing followed by tickling, itching, squirming? It sent goosebumps up my arms, I wanted to scratch. It made me shudder, even as the pain receded from my shoulder. And then...

I flexed My arm tentatively, once. Then I waved my arm in amazement and pulled at the bandages, looking for the red and blackened skin. The scarring.

The skin was knitting back, that irritating sensation of crawling, of squirming, was the tissue setting into place. It wasn't like watching healing, not in fast forward or otherwise. It was like new skin rose out of my arm, rolling up under the burnt patches, pushing them out- dead skin sloughed off. It looked like a year of healing in one minute.

"Whoa." I said, staring at the shiny new skin on my hand.

You didn't appreciate the phrase 'superhuman healing' until you saw and felt it, understood what it really meant. It was miraculous, I could hardly believe it seeing it with my own eyes. I made a fist as tight as I could, then opened my hand and flexed my fingers, flexed my arm, my shoulder. It was gone, the pain was all gone.

And that warm feeling spreading out from my stomach wasn't fading either. I felt like I'd had a full night's sleep and an energy drink. I could run a mile, fly to the moon, wrestle Alexandria. Laugh and sing right there. I felt amazing. Everything was sharp and clear, the smell of lemon and soap, the feeling on my skin- new unblemished skin. Each whole and easy breath.

Wine made little sighing, sleepy noises, slumping. Doctor Peterson reached out to grab him, but Wine sank Right through his hands to the floor, eyes closed and half dissolved into purple goo. Asleep.

"... I was worried that would happen." Doctor Peterson sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"Losing pieces of himself tires Wine out."

"It doesn't hurt him though? You said it didn't hurt him." I asked, just to be sure. I mean, he looked fine, but...

"Yes. I don't think he can be physically hurt." Doctor Peterson said, still staring down at the puddle-boy, "His power just treats it as an injury and causes him fatigue in response, he has to sleep it off."

I frowned, looking down at him while he slept, and flexed my hand, feeling the skin stretch, the joints move without obstruction or stiffness or any pain. I flexed my hand again, then reached out and threw the sheets aside and jumped- actually jumped out of bed. My feet hit the floor and my ribs didn't hurt. I moved my arms. Twisted at the waist.

Looking up, let my eyes wander across the others. Mimi was standing with Elle, holding her hand. Elle smiled, wide and genuine. Mimi looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to step forward or turn and run, so I decided for her and stepped forward to both of them. Just a brief hug, then I stepped back. "What do you think?" I flexed my bicep.

I looked ridiculous, my arm was a stick, but the point was to show the damage was repaired with no hard feelings. I wasn't angry, and I wasn't afraid. I clenched the fingers of my healed hand so they didn't shake, and refused to think of fire. I wasn't afraid, not of fire eating away on my arm.

I was rewarded with a small smile from Elle, and a hesitant twitch of Mimi's lips.

It was a heady sensation. My ribs didn't hurt. Or my shoulder. Or my wrist. Though at the moment I could barely say I had a body, it certainty didn't feel like mine. Moving it was such a chore. I was surprised I had managed to sit. Stand?

"Aaaand, there's the peak. She's crashing now..." Doctor Peterson said, "She needs to get back in bed."

Mimi was there under one shoulder immediately as I started to tip. Lars and Doctor Lafayette took over a moment later. I felt silly, three people helping me get into bed. I giggled.

Doctor Peterson was talking, but I didn't understand what he was saying. Everything was very far away and unimportant right now, and I relaxed, rested. I hoped I'd not need to get up in a hurry. I didn't know if I would be able to do more than tip over, if it came to that. Mimi and Elle lingered as my vision faded, sitting beside my bed, worried. I tried to smile for them, they didn't need to worry, I felt great.

It got dark, my eyes felt heavy. So heavy.

I didn't sleep, never slept.

But... I went away.


	17. Altrical 3-2

**{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Coming back to myself in the infirmary the second time was faster. I was asleep and then I was awake and the world was perfect, everything was sharp. My head was clear. Even the faint pain that had penetrated my drugged haze was gone now. My head was clear and I could think- but the room was empty.

Mimi and Elle's chairs were empty, and had been moved back to their places by the wall. I slipped off the bed and stood, easy and natural. No one offered me my glasses. I found them set out on the bedside table. They were laid carefully atop a card- just a simple piece of paper with the words 'Hope you feel better' I didn't recognize the handwriting.

I held the paper in my hand, and sat on the bed.

It was quiet, the only sound was the quiet buzz of the florescent lights, and I think, I think that was why I suddenly felt safe. Safe enough to be afraid, and to cry. I could feel the fire on my arm, licking at my toes, burning me up again. I could feel the impact, of something thrown from behind me striking my shoulder, the bones shifting from the impact, breaking.

I had almost died. I had felt how close I came.

My eyes prickled and my vision swam, tears ran down my face- I wiped at them with my sleeve and my hands shook. My breathing was quick and heavy; my hands and shoulders shook uncontrollably. Fire and a faceless shape chased me, behind my eyelids, in the corners of the quiet room. Chased me down and dragged me into the dark. I pulled my legs up to my chest and muffled the thin sounds in my knees.

I was afraid. I was afraid. I was so afraid. My shoulders shook, and stifled my mouth with the back of my hand.

The hysteria settled slowly, quietly, the hiccupping sobs slowed and stopped; the shaking in my hands slowly faded. Take deep breaths, deep breaths.

Someone knocked on the door, and I jumped.

"C-come in." I said, scrubbing at my eyes.

The door opened, and a matronly woman with curly brown hair, a cheery, round-cheeked face, and a twinkling smile stepped in. Her scrubs were green, and her name tag read Woodard.

"How are you feeling, dear?"

I tried to smile, I did. It was too watery, and Nurse Woodard tutted.

"Come here, dear."

I didn't fool her at all, did I?

She hugged me, "How are you holding up? There, there... It's all right."

Nurse Woodard was very understanding and didn't ask me why I'd been crying, and I didn't feel like sharing. She let me lean on her for a minute before I had myself back under control.

"Are you hungry dear?" She asked when I'd stopped sniffling.

"Yes..."

"Well how about we head back to the cafeteria?" Nurse Woodard said cheerily. I found myself smiling back. "Now, let's sign you out and get out of here dear."

I nodded with the suggestion, I did feel hungry.

I was being discharged from the Infirmary. Nurse Woodard stopped by the front desk. The attending nurse... I couldn't see her name tag, but I saw something starting with a 'J'. Nurse Woodard dropped off a clipboard, and asked the nurse some questions, but I was lost in thought.

Nurse Woodard plucked at my sleeve, bringing me back to myself, we kept walking- I followed her, but my mind was still occupied.

"Mimi and Elle went back to medium security, right?" I asked.

Nurse Woodard tutted, "Burnscar and Labyrinth," she said, "And I'm afraid so. Everyone's getting shuffled around for now dear. Things are going to be a little unstable for a while."

"Can I see them again?" I asked, "Visit them? Or have them visit?"

"I wouldn't know, dear. Usually the psychiatrists are the ones that decide that."

"So... If I wanted Burnscar to have lunch with me and my friends, I'd need to talk to my therapist?"

"I suppose." she said, "I'm sorry, dear."

"I promised Mimi I'd ask if she could share a meal schedule." I said, "She's lonely, she needs friends."

"I can pass it along, that you'd like to ask."

I smiled, "I would!"

I'd need to try and talk to Doctor Selmy, or maybe Doctor Yamada, and ask them if Mimi and Elle could get moved over. Mimi said that she got moved around, right? I didn't know much about Elle though. Did they let her move around?

 _-Fire, eating into my arm, eyes glowing, empty-_

I shivered and resolutely told myself I wasn't afraid...

The promise I made to Mimi, to ask for her to share a meal schedule with me... I hesitated, faltered, conflicted, and followed Nurse Woodard.

We kept walking, instead of taking the service corridor as I had with Summer Holiday; we followed the hall into a Hub. The middle of the room was dominated by a security booth. Not as large as the main booth, but larger than the smaller checkpoint gates. It was enclosed in reinforced glass on every side; the walls were lined with elevators and opened up into a T junction, two other hallways crossing.

To my consternation, mirrored windows overlooked the Hub, and my power... My power hinted at... Something. People above us, behind the glass, probably.

The booth itself was manned by three guards.

"Hello James." Nurse Woodard said, smiling as always.

"Polly." One tipped his hat, "Got a page from up top." He slid a slip of paper under the document slot to her.

Nurse Woodard picked up the slip, "Oh, my! You've got visitors at admissions."

Visitors? I blinked and looked up at her, "What?"

It took a moment for that to click. I hadn't had any visitors since I'd come to Alchemilla. I'd never heard of family of friends visiting, but I knew it was discouraged. It risked making a connection between civilian and cape lives. But I didn't have a cape life, I'd been sent to Alchemilla before any of that, but I knew of heroes with enemies that could take advantage of that. Fusor had been a big name in Chicago. I thought about Blake- Maser -maybe I knew some villains with enemies too.

The nurse... Polly... She gave me an encouraging nod. "She arrived this morning, your mother?"

Oh. Oh, right Mom had said she'd be coming by. I... I'd forgotten in the chaos... I'd been looking forward to that too.

How could I forget Mom was going to visit?

My eyes prickled wetly, but I thought my face might split in two with my smile.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

There was a brief aside, wherein Nurse Woodard asked if I wanted to eat breakfast first. But I was already vibrating with energy. I didn't know if I'd be able to manage an appetite even if I had been starving.

Then Nurse Woodard reminded me gravely to not use civilian names. Preserving civilian identities was very important, Mom and Emma had been made aware of the need for secrecy- they had to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements just to get in the building - but I had to do my part too.

So we headed up. I hadn't been to ground level since I'd checked in the first day- and I had seen a different section, the sterile inpatient receiving clinics and containment. That was where I had my power tested and endured an endless battery of tests. Visitors were received in a different section. We rode one of the elevators up to ground level, and it opened onto an open room with a desk and receptionist. Polly glided through and ushered me through a door marked 'women'. Lockers lined one of the walls, and booths lined the other, I'd taken it for a restroom at first glance but reconsidered, it looked like a dressing room.

I was given a black domino mask, one that stuck to my cheeks and forehead with adhesive strips that I had to peel plastic off of. Wearing my glasses on top of it made me look like the dorkiest dork whoever dorked a dork. There was also a grey sweat suit- it _was_ a dressing room.

I took off my scrubs and put the sweat suit on with shaking hands, my heart felt like it'd leap right out of my throat any moment. I felt a little lightheaded and was actually regretting not getting something to eat; my power was telling me my blood sugar was low. Maybe part of it was because I'd been healed?

After I was dressed, Polly showed me out into a kind of small indoor courtyard under a wide skylight.

This part of Alchemilla didn't look like a hospital at all. There were ornamental pillars carved to look like leafless trees, with benches and a pebble garden. There were benches in the park, backless rings around the fake trees. It almost empty, with the exception of two people sitting on one of the benches, their backs to me. I stared at them, intently, because their familiarity burned like torches in the dark.

I broke away from Polly and began to run. I heard her call my name behind me, but I was already running, eyes only for the bench and who was sitting on it.

The sound of me running, my slippers on the stone floor, made the nearest start to turn as I reached them.

I threw myself at her, " _Emma!_ "

She squeaked as I hit her, wrapped her in a hug, and tilted dangerously- I was spinning and laughing with my momentum.

Emma blinked in surprise. Behind her, Mom also looked up, startled.

"Taylor?" Emma asked.

I smiled, and then, then I was crying, I dragged Emma to her in a hug; Mom's arms wrapped around me, and I was home.

"I missed you so much!" I bawled into Mom's shirt, it was mess and my nose was probably running, but I was crying and I was laughing and everything felt right. A knot in my shoulders I hadn't noticed came undone.

Impressions of surprise and joy warred with a moment of shock quickly overcome. I was so happy I could hardly contain it. I pulled back a little, letting go of them.

Emma regained her footing, and struggled for words. She gave me the most perplexing look, "Taylor- you... You're wearing a mask."

"Y-yeah," I stammered, either embarrassed or pleased. I honestly couldn't decide; it was all a tangle I couldn't pick apart.

Emma's face ran through a gamut of emotions. Exasperation, amusement, frustration, and a real surprise- jealousy.

She was jealous? Of what?

I blinked, "It's just a formality thing, I think? In case other people see us?" I shrugged one shoulder.

Emma just snorted- leveling out into exasperation, the other emotions fading into the background and I laughed again. I didn't know what else to say, fortunately Polly caught up to me, huffing and puffing slightly.

"Hello Mrs. Hebert, Miss Barnes."

Mom disentangled herself from Emma and me, brushing her blouse down absently, and offered her hand, "Annette Hebert."

"Polly Woodard." Polly and Mom shook.

"I trust Taylor hasn't been giving you too much trouble?" Mom asked.

"Not at all." She gave me a smile with just a touch of admonishment where I stood, hands around Emma's shoulders, grinning ear to ear like a loon.

"Good, good. I've hear a lot of good things about Alchemilla. Taylor has said that the staff has been very supportive."

"Taylor has made great strides, we're all very proud of her." Polly beamed.

I had to sit down. That run had sent my head spinning, and I swayed a little. Polly gave me a shrewd look and I just knew she knew.

"Come with me, Taylor skipped breakfast and I suspect you are hungry as well."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Emma and I lay on the floor, staring up at the skylight in the park with the fake trees. Our legs rested on one of the benches, and I watched fluffy white clouds pass above us. A tray with two plates and the remains of scrambled eggs with bacon, a bit of crust from some toast, and two empty glasses of orange juice lay between us. Emma's emotions were subdued, reflective, and maudlin, she was in a contemplative mood, and strangely, so was I.

The past week had been difficult, but Emma being here had reminded me of what I was working towards, of what life had been like before. There was a normal, ordinary world out there that I remembered. She was wearing jeans and a blouse and sneakers and was in high school- I'd be skipping a grade when I got out, but I couldn't wait to have something ordinary like school to worry about. Mom had told me all about the little dramas and juicy scandals at the Brockton U and we'd laughed all through breakfast. Then Mom had talked about the parahuman scene in Brockton Bay, about how she'd started following the neighborhood watch and the Wards newsletter. Emma, though, had been strangely reticent.

I fidgeted.

"I missed you." I said.

Emma took a moment to reply, and her voice was quiet, "I missed you too."

I perked up, "There's a lot of parahumans here! I've met at least a dozen, and I've even made some friends!"

The limitations on my correspondence didn't apply to just talking to Mom and Emma. There wasn't risk of electronic interception, or hard copies getting lost. Mom and Emma had to sign NDAs before they could even get in the door. Which was a very good thing, I thought. Emailing Mom and Emma had been an exercise in frustration because I actually wanted to talk about the people, I wanted to know what Mom thought of Labyrinth, or Burnscar; Glassboom or Sadboy (even if I wanted to call them Elle, Mimi, Heather, and Nick).

Now that they were here I could just tell them. I could just tell them everything. I knew that while I had been growing up Mom been worried about me not making many friends beyond Emma. Now that I'd made some, I wanted to tell them everything.

"First there was this girl, Glassboom, she's got some kind of kinetic reflection power? She's... A little odd, but I think you'd like her." Heather could be a little irritating. But she was really imaginative and funny. "And there's Sadboy. He's nice too, and likes Glassboom, I think. We eat lunch together." I said, "Burnscar and Labyrinth are a little hard to get right away, but they're good people. Oh, and when I got burned, I met a boy called Wine, he had an interesting power-

"When you got burned?" Mom asked.

I blinked, "Oh, right. Labyrinth had a flare-up, her power effected most of Alchemilla, I think. That's how I met her and Burnscar..." I'd told them everything I could; and Mom got very quiet. Nurse Woodard's smile had looked a little strained. She and Mom had stepped to the side and started talking very urgently in hushed tones.

 _"-believe this, how can you... Taylor's leaving, we're l-"_

 _"-ert, there aren't many alternatives for your daughter. She is committed by court order. Do you want-"_

I listened with one ear. I guess I should have seen Mom's reaction coming. I... Wasn't surprised, but I was caught off guard, I hadn't thought about it.

Would I be leaving Alchemilla?

Part of me wanted to, wanted to go out and be a hero, use my powers to make a difference. Part of me, part of me I wasn't proud of- I was afraid. But... I'd made some friends here. And I'd barely gotten to know most of them. I promised Mimi I'd have lunch with her... I wanted to ask Emma, but there was still that strange distance I didn't recognize. And it left me... all talked out. And now I was just lying there with Emma.

While we'd been growing up, I'd always been the one that talked more, been the motor mouth. Sometimes it felt like I couldn't stop talking even if I wanted. I felt like I was eight again. I alternated between talking nonstop, asking question I could think of, and being all worded out.

Emma hmmed, and I glanced at her, she was still looking at the clouds above us, eyes hooded.

Once upon a time, I remembered jumping from the top bunk in Emma's room with a blanket trailing behind me as an improvised cape. Emma had giggled and tipped over, tears streaming down her face. I remembered all kinds of laughter, all kinds of tears. There had been a time when Emma and I had been sisters, when there hadn't been any kind of secret I didn't share with Emma. I trusted her implicitly.

There was a distance now. I didn't like it. When I'd imagined Mom and Emma visiting... I hadn't imagined this.

"Emma?"

Emma blinked, and looked at me, "I'm sorry Taylor, it's just..."

She hesitated and I waited. The clouds overhead gently drifted by, blue sky in between.

"I'm having trouble in school." Emma said at last, "There's... There's kind of a gang war happening right now. A bunch of guys... They won't stop bugging me."

Her voice was small, and her hands rested on her stomach, twitching slightly like she wanted to be doing something with them but couldn't think of what.

"You mean, like they want you to... join a gang?" I asked.

"No, like..." Emma paused, "They're... they keep bothering me. One, this guy walked up to me and asked me if I- I ever had sex."

I blinked at Emma.

"I told him to leave me alone and he started asking me if I- I'd ever given anyone head. I-if I'd ever done more than one guy... I saw two of them Wednesday after track. I think they're following me." Emma whispered. She was... She was afraid.

Horror washed cool down my face. I never imagined Emma might be afraid, when we were younger, I was always the one hesitant and shy. Emma was always so fearless and sure of herself.

I looked over at Mom.

Mom and Polly sat a few paces away on the other side of the pebble garden. Mom had stopped talking about taking me away, and was asking Polly about Labyrinth's world, the crater and ruins, but Polly couldn't say anything. The staff had restrictions on information on patients- nothing was given out without a long string of paper forms and written permissions and an entire separate battery of NDA forms. I'd encountered that bureaucratic wall my first month in Alchemilla.

 _"-Mrs. Hebert, You have to understand... we work under many restrictions here-"_

"You should tell your Mom." I said, "Or my Mom. I can't help much from here."

Emma sighed, "Okay." But her heart wasn't in it. It wasn't sincere. She wasn't sincere.

I wasn't certain what to do. If I tried to press the issue... wasn't that strange, Emma had always been the one that pulled me along, the one that took initiative. Not the other way around. Everything was different; where was the life I recognized, that I'd dreamt of when I was homesick? Something had changed while I was gone, and now my life was different, it wasn't there anymore. Instead of the joy I'd imagined there was this little melancholy talk with someone I didn't entirely recognize.

 _"-are those my only options?" Mom asked, "That cannot be all-"_

I wasn't leaving today, was I?

"Are you going to visit again?" I said.

Her emotions were distant, not deeply invested; it surprised me how shallow they were. She was struggling with three emotions. Sadness, confusion, and... Again, jealousy.

Emma was... Jealous? Of me? Yes, she was. Why? I wracked my brain trying to imagine why- powers.

She was jealous of my having powers

I... I was unsure. This entire conversation had left me unbalanced, not reassured.

I was starting to feel drained, with the constant emotional back and forth. My eyes were starting to prickle, which felt unfair, I... I was so happy to see Emma and Mom again. But nothing was like it was supposed to be, I didn't want to cry for something that I thought, hoped, believed was still there. Attention settled on me, and tensed a moment before I realized it was just Mom, walking over to us.

Emma and I stood up.

"I wish we had more time." Mom said, "Nurse Woodard gave me a card, I'm going to be reviewing our options, I don't want you to stay here."

"I'm not leaving?" I didn't know if I ought to be relived or disappointed. I knew Mom on a mission could move mountains, but the list of faculties equipped to manage parahuman patients was small. Sure, my power was relatively weak, but I remembered Mimi's bleak helplessness. I didn't like my chances.

"... Not today." Mom's worry-helplessness-determination blazed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Polly said, "We can schedule additional visits."

"Next month?" I asked, hopefully. A glance at Emma had my heart sinking, her expression was closed and muted, "Or the next?"

Her helplessness deepened. No, probably not.

"I'll do my best Taylor, but it's quite a ride out to Alchemilla." Mom said gently, I could feel the emotion in her.

 _-Conflicted; yearning, affection, sadness, desperation-_

"I'm going to be talking to the Protectorate Liaison Office in Brockton; we might have some options closer to home."

I could see her expression, and I felt one of my own like it crack just before I covered my face.

"Taylor..." Mom said, but I threw my arms around her.

We didn't talk- just stood there, silent. I wanted to stay there forever, I wanted for it to feel better than it did, but instead it felt like uncertainty. That sense of drifting, the fear of not being as close to Emma as I remembered, as I had hoped. "I'm not crying," I said.

She smiled, "I know." Mom said.

"I'm really not crying." I replied, just a little bit petulant.

Well, I wasn't.

"I know." She grinned. That did the trick- I couldn't help but smile a little; I could sense playfulness, and gentle amusement from Mom.

"My brave girl wouldn't cry." Mom said, and we pulled apart.

"Stay strong, Taylor." Mom said, "I know you can do it."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

There were more goodbyes, eventually we parted. Emma smiled for me, but I could tell her heart wasn't in it.

Polly and I walked back to the changing room. She ushered me into one of the booths and... That sweat suit I stared at in the mirror for several moments. It was a strange notion- this was as close to wearing a costume as I had ever been.

When I was younger, I'd filled pages and pages of notebooks with colorful illustrations of capes and leotards and bright metal armor. Helmets and gloves, usually accompanied with bright flashes of light or flame. Alexandria's costume might have come up a few times, all blacks, reds, silvers and golds in its various iterations. She had a lot of variation in her costume because it was technically part of her, and it changed a lot. Eidolon's hood and robe might have come up a few times, and Armsmaster's blue-silver combination inspired a few. Hero... Hero was kind of untouchable, timeless. He embodied the Protectorate's ideals more than any other, and he was the strongest of them all. His iconic gold and red remained a constant, even if a Tinker's repertoire was changing constantly.

I looked at myself in the changing booth's mirror, plain sweat suit. It didn't even have the Protectorate emblem.

"Are you all right in there Auspice?" Polly asked.

"I'm fine!" I replied.

I pulled off the sweats and started pulling on the scrubs. That was not the right way to be thinking and I wasn't going to start thinking like that. I was getting all mopey about a costume. Not when my mother and best friend had just visited me. I didn't know how many patients had visitors, but I knew it wasn't something talked about. Heather's reaction, to learning I had Mom and Emma and I was emailing them... I was trying to imagine how she would react to learning they had visited me.

I had it good, I had mother that loved me and Emma was the best friend I could ever ask for.

Why was I asking where Emma was, when I needed her? Emma didn't have me either. I wasn't the only one with problems.

"Almost done." I called, and considered the mask, "These things are disposable, right?"

"The mask? Of course dear."

I picked at the corner on my cheek a little, until it folded over and I could get a real grip on it. The mask peeled away.

"All right," I said, stepping out.

Polly and I walked back towards the elevators. I was buzzing with questions, but didn't want to ask Polly. What could I do to help Emma if she didn't want to be helped? My case wasn't up for review until the end of the month- then I'd have two more weeks as a Blue patient before release. And then... I'd be a hero, I think?

The checkpoint at the hub, the booth and guards- different ones this time. They called an elevator. Polly and I got in.

I leaned against the back wall rail on the elevator, thinking hard.

I didn't know if I wanted to sign on with the Wards. But I didn't know if I wanted to go independent- be a vigilante or a rogue. Brockton Bay was a good place for it, sure, especially if you operated in Marche territory. But Emma had talked about the gang violence taking a turn for the worse, of a new gang moving in- I'd read about that, the Fae. Mom had skirted the issue, but my power had hinted at it. She was worried, and it took a lot to rock Mom. Things were bad in Brockton. And regardless of the invincible image the Marquis liked to project, I couldn't depend on that as a safe haven.

I needed to look up independents. I could join the Brockton Bay Brigade, maybe... And what if I did become a Ward? What would that entail anyway?

I'd need to do some reading.

The elevator opened, and I was finally back in my Ward. The walls were that same soothing cream and the floors tiled that same black and white. I could feel my power reach out and ping on familiar halls and rooms, a map entered my mind, and in it were motes of familiarity moving in it. Heather, Nick, Charnel...

"We're here!" Polly said.

I took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. Finally being back after everything... I had things to do.

"Do you know if Doctor Selmy is in today? Or Doctor Yamada?" I needed to talk to someone. I needed to ask about Mimi and Elle and... And I needed to ask questions.

Polly frowned, "Not off the top of my head, dear. But I can ask." She gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you."


	18. Altrical 3-3

**{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"...And that's how things wrapped up, and here we are." I finished.

Doctor Selmy tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair thoughtfully. We'd taken the previous seating arrangement in Selmy's office. Myself on the couch, him in the easy chair. There was the water and the glasses on the table. Doctor Selmy tried to impart something to his space that comforted those that visited him. He was known to offer a few snacks and sweet drinks from the small refrigerator behind his desk. I'd seen crayons and paints in a cabinet.

There was an oil painting over the desk. A street corner and apartment block in red brick. Old fashioned wrought iron railing, trees out front on the sidewalk. It didn't look like something I could see him buying. Maybe a patient painted it? It was good.

The painting... I hadn't seen the painting last time. Or maybe I'd overlooked it. I might have, the last time I had been here was right after Benny died. Now that I felt like looking, I was actually seeing things I'd never noticed before. Was there a metaphor in there?

I wasn't sure.

Doctor Selmy set down his notepad. "Taylor, that's amazing."

It had certainly been something. An adventure, maybe? Something.

"I'm very proud of you," He said, "Taylor; I want you to understand that. What you did was very brave. You may have saved those girls' lives."

"Who was he? Nobody tells me anything, every time I ask..."

Doctor Selmy gave me a grim look, "I don't know."

He was... Telling the truth. My shoulders slumped.

"... I can promise you I am going to be asking questions." Doctor Selmy continued, "But I warn you, a lot of information on patients falls under Doctor-Patient confidentiality and is compartmentalized to protect both you and others, and that limits what I can reveal."

"Thank you." I said. It wasn't much but it was something.

Doctor Selmy leaned back, expression thoughtful, "Can you sense him now?"

I hadn't thought to try. I touched on my power, looked for people I was familiar with. I picked out the ones closest, Doctor Selmy, strong. Another strong one nearby, Doctor Yamada and another mote- very faint. She was counseling a patient, I think?

Further away, Charnel, Nick and Heather, and other motes less familiar. I could map the wing; I almost thought I could count how many people were in the cafeteria...

My senses extended further still, but the further I pushed the murkier they became. I had a general impression to about fifty feet, I guessed, without any additional familiarity clarifying. Was that because I'd used my power on my hearing? But there was more- I followed my sense out, picking out points that were stronger. My room and the hallway it sat on, for one.

There was also the strong impression of my cell from solitary, and a vague sense of some portions of inpatient processing. Those were two floors up, a faint network of hallways and rooms I had walked through once or twice in-between. A handful of motes familiar enough to register but not enough to identify... I blinked, that was worlds more than I could manage in power testing.

I looked further.

Secure containment I could also sense. I could sense Mimi and Elle down there, both motes very strong and bright in spite of the distance. I could tell them apart, and even sense a faint impression of emotion from Mimi...

And on the edge of that, I could just barely sense that searching intelligence far, far below me. That sense of something lurking, something trapped, and little else. But distant, indistinct.

"I-I can. Just barely."

Doctor Selmy hmmed, "Interesting."

I thought it interesting as well. Had my range increased, or was that more a factor of how little I had pushed my power previously? When I'd arrived, power testing had suggested I could gain limited prescience over something I came into contact with. But the most I had ever managed was a vague awareness when an apple I'd inspected was bitten into, and the range was very short.

I'd noticed some things were clearer since then, but I'd thought that was practice allowing me to get more out of my power, but this was something new. I... Was not sure what caused it.

Of all the things I'd considered, that was not something I thought would... surprise me so much. It mattered. I sulked. It was irritating. And ironic. Ironically irritating. If I'd had more control of my powers maybe my arm would never have been burned...

But then, if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have gotten to know Mimi or Elle nearly as well. I blinked, that reminded me, "Do you know if Mimi and Elle could have lunch with me sometimes?" I asked.

"That is a significant request, Taylor." He said solemnly, "Mimi's been here awhile, and she has a very mixed history. There will be a lot of opposition to allowing her the kind of freedom you're asking for, opposition on many levels."

I raised my chin a little and met his gaze. Doctor Selmy wasn't trying to intimidate me or dissuade me. My power hinted at - _Pleased, surprised; did not anticipate me reaching out; wants to encourage efforts_ \- tempered with what I almost wanted to call a cynical edge. My power gave the impression of... an _awareness of limitations_.

But... He wasn't saying no, either. That was really all I could expect, though not all I had hoped for. And he was a very experienced member of the counseling staff, if anyone would know what was or was not possible, it would be him.

"Thanks." I sighed.

Doctor Selmy smiled wryly, "Chin up. We'll see what happens."

I gave him a very serious look, considering. "Mimi doesn't like her therapists." I blurted.

If the change of subject surprised Doctor Selmy, his reaction was muted, "How so?"

"Well... She said they couldn't help her. She said they wanted to test her and test her, but couldn't do anything for her." I said, "She... Got angry when I asked her."

Doctor Selmy nodded slowly, "It isn't exactly a secret, and both Burnscar and Labyrinth have been at Alchemilla for some time. I... Am not at liberty to discuss the particular circumstances of them coming to be here, but their stay here has not been an easy one. While I cannot promise your meal schedule- Burnscar's been shuffled around too much to promise you anything there. I can ask who her therapists are. I can ask her therepists, see if I can start working with Burnscar and Labyrinth."

"You'd do that?"

"I have a few open slots in my schedule. Director Foster thinks I'm getting on in years, and I can't handle some of the more energetic patients." He tapped his cane on the floor demonstratively, "Thinks he is being 'subtle' dropping hints about my being past a due date... I've outlasted three directors, and Foster is retiring."

He fixed me with a conspiring twinkle in his eye, "Did I tell you? I have been offered a wheelchair here once by a young orderly, his first day on the job. Thought I was a visitor. Poor boy nearly fainted. I told him, 'maybe when I'm old'."

We both laughed.

"Thanks Doctor Selmy."

"Not at all, not at all." He stood. He opened the door for me and showed me out.

"Thank you for talking with me." I said.

"The pleasure was entirely mine." He replied, "I will look into getting some schedules rearranged."

He paused, and fixed me with a look of great gravity, "Don't forget, Taylor, you have the power to turn all of this into strength. You've already shown me you can do that. There are others here that still need to see that in themselves, too."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Group therapy that evening was a mixed bag again. A boy with brown hair and a limp. He wore blue and had a very sour expression. Another, a girl with pigtails and a scarred face, she wore orange. A girl with red curly hair that cowered, shrinking in on herself the longer I looked at her, and a smaller boy, both in blues. Mostly unfamiliar faces. But one face was familiar and immediately stuck out to me-

"You're alive!"

Heather threw herself at me with a squeal, rocketing across the room alarmingly and nearly giving me a heart attack.

"Oh shit this is so awesome," She yelled, "Everything turned into a castle, and then it turned into an industrial park, it was rad and so much shit got broken! We were getting guys dumped all over the place from the high-security levels, you know?"

Oh did I ever. I gave her a weak smile. "It was... Exciting, wasn't it?"

"It was great!" Heather gushed, "I haven't had this much fun in months!"

I stopped and turned to look at the others. The girl with the scars, she... had a smile carved into her face, someone had cut her cheeks open from her lips and up over her ears- and she was missing an ear lobe. The girl returned my stare silently until I looked away, unnerved.

"She's afraid of us." I heard her whisper to herself.

I laughed weakly and sat down next to Heather. The curly redhead looked to be slowly working herself up to a mental breakdown and the group meeting hadn't even started. I took a deep breath and tried to think positively. The Doctor this week was Doctor Ferris, a young woman with blonde hair kept tied at the back of her head. She wasn't as nervous as some I'd seen, but there was a definite tension in her shoulders, and her lips were a thin line.

We all introduced ourselves.

The boy with the limp and the sour face was Pendant. The girl with the scars that whispered to herself was Tagout. The jumpy redhead was Solace. The smaller boy in blue was Copperquick.

"All right everyone, I know we've had a very eventful week." She smiled; it showed a lot of teeth and the whites of her eyes. This woman was tense. "Would anyone like to go first?"

She looked around the circle. Her hands clutching her notepad were white knuckled.

My senses pricked with emotions. I was surrounded by fear, anger. Heather was the only one smiling. Shoulders hunched in, heads lowered, body language closed and furtive.

It... occurred to me that I might be a little out of touch with what had happened in the chaos. Since I'd woken up I'd been taken directly from the infirmary to see Mom and Emma, and then asked to see Doctor Selmy. I'd decided to go straight from that to my group meeting. I had no idea what had happened since I was out.

Labyrinth's power disrupting the precariously balanced world of Alchemilla might very well have had a wide-ranging ripple effect that would be sending aftershocks through the patient population for months.

I turned my attention back to the room full of teenagers and tried to get a feel for their powers. Solace gave the impression of vigilance, or alertness. A Thinker probably. Maybe something to do with danger or she could see the future, or possible futures. Precognitive, that was the word. Pendant was a little more difficult- his power had something to do with splitting something else. Copperquick had something to do with speed and... Direction. I think.

"Tagout, why don't you start?"

Tagout, the last one, the girl with the face cut into a giant grin... she was hard to read. I frowned and focused on her. My impression was jumbled, unfocused; it kept changing from one thing to another- muddled out until it was useless. I tried, but my unfamiliarity made what I was pulling off her confused, too abstract for me to make much sense of. There was some trick to it, or, no- I suspected her power had a drawback. Maybe her strange moods hinted at it? There was some kind of mental aspect, but also a physical one...

And what was up with her eyes?

Her power was a presence, it filled in her mind. It felt like a wild animal tugging at a leash, Tagout was pulled along with it each time.

As if she felt my power focused on her, she looked up and returned my stare. The scars on her face turned her smile into a rictus grin. I looked away.

"I-I can." The redhead stuttered.

"Thank you, Solace. I understand how hard that is for you. Go right ahead."

She took a couple quick breaths.

"Um, I was in crafts when it happened." she said.

No one from her therapy group had gotten washed down any supernatural drains into caves. The Nurse in charge had kept them together and calm until security and the relief force from the Protectorate had reached them. Solace had avoided most of the chaos. But listening her, she sounded like she was never more than a moment away from a complete nervous breakdown.

Solace fidgeted, her eyes darted around the room, never still. She flinched every few words and as she talked, the topic drifted away from the past week, and turned to the reason she was at Alchemilla in the first place. She suffered from crippling panic attacks and paranoia. I was right; she had a Thinker power- some kind of very invasive danger sense.

"Doctor Warren's been helping me through it." Solace giggled nervously, "I, um, I'm doing much better. I've been working on my breathing exercises, and that seems to be helping." I nodded and muttered in commiseration, fearing for her nerves.

"Thank you, Solace." Doctor Ferris said, and Solace let out a breath of relief.

"Would someone else like to talk?"

"Oh, me! Me!" Heather said, raising her hand.

Doctor Ferris' smile rose another few notches on the forced scale. "Yes, Glassboom?"

"Yeah, everything's been awesome since Labyrinth threw her party!" Heather said with a grin, "Elephant's been a riot; I knocked her over this morning!"

Heather laughed loudly, stomping her feet.

"Glassboom," Doctor Ferris said, tiredly, "Please don't antagonize Elephant. You've been told before-"

"Oh, come on! Pushing buttons is like the only thing to do around here!" Heather said, "I've been bored out of my skull for weeks!"

Doctor Ferris frowned, "Glassboom, not everyone appreciated having their week turned on its head. Please, your turn is up."

"At least I didn't spend my turn shivering in fear." Heather said, looking at Solace, "Solace is a scaredy cat. Aren't yah, scaredy cat?"

Tagout turned her cut-up grin on the whimpering girl, who wilted even more. "She is afraid of everything. Afraid." Tagout said, and looked at Heather, "She knows."

"Glassboom, Tagout- please, keep this civil." Doctor Ferris stood, "Glassboom, your turn is up."

Solace just sat in her chair, legs drawn up to her chest, rocking slowly. Tagout muttered to herself, "Why is she afraid?" Tagout asked, and then replied, "...She is in pain?" Pause, and she answered her own question again, "They are. Hours from now." Pendant and Copperquick scooted away from her.

Oh. Okay. Um.

"Auspice, it's good to see you back with us. Would you like to go next? Remember, please be positive." Doctor Ferris' smile had started to look a little desperate.

"Oh. Um, okay." I mumbled, gathering my thoughts. What did I want to say? I risked a quick glance around the circle. A couple muttered greetings and limp hellos.

"Last week was really... Rough." I said, "I got hurt. By another patient."

I took a breath and let go of my arm.

"Being here at Alchemilla has... It's been..." I swallowed, "It's not been easy, but I think it's helped me."

I took a deep breath. In my mind's eye, I felt Doctor Selmy's comforting hand on my shoulder and the memory of his words. I could feel every eye in the room on me.

"I've... I've met people here, people who have it much, much worse off. So much worse than me. It's helped me gain some perspective. I appreciate the people I have rooting for me, and, and what I have."

I stopped, breathing deeply. I sympathized with Solace. I hated talking in front of people.

Doctor Ferris smiled, and it was an actual, honest smile, "Thank you, Auspice. That's wonderful to hear."

Tagout was looking at me with her head tilted to one side. Solace looked surprised and a little confused. Pendant and Copperquick both just looked confused.

Heather mutinously looked away, scuffing her slippers on the carpet.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

My group meeting broke up after a relatively uneventful hour. Pendant and Copperquick left immediately. Heather left right after they did.

I'd caught her in her little game, and now she wouldn't talk to me. I tried to not feel hurt.

I stayed, it was going on half an hour past, but I had nowhere to be. Doctor Ferris gathered up her notepad and the tray of cookies and soda- mostly gone now. Tagout was listlessly drinking a soda, and Solace had taken a plate, two cups of soda, and backed herself into a corner that let her watch the whole room after I caught Heather trying to drop cookie crumbs into her cups.

"Thanks Doctor Ferris." I said, trying to inject a little more energy into my voice. I was feeling worn down, but it was nothing compared to what I was picking up off of her.

Doctor Ferris gave me a smile, and squeezed my shoulder, "Thanks yourself," She said, "I didn't miss how you helped me keep a lid on Glassboom; and I really appreciated your comments Auspice."

I smiled and laughed nervously. I wasn't looking forward to talking to her about that.

I opened the door and stepped outside, looking back as Doctor Ferris tried to rally the final two girls.

"Come on Solace, Tagout." Doctor Ferris said.

Solace squeaked, "N-not safe, it's, um, not safe!" She pointed at me, "Nothing's safe, no one's safe. Not safe."

Doctor Ferris looked at her, then turned and looked at me. The confusion on her face mirrored my own. Tagout laughed.

I could sense... A lot of activity from her power. Nothing like what I'd managed with Mimi or Elle, but I could tell it was active. I looked around the hall, but it was empty. I touched my power- looking at the impression, letting it expand out into the room around me. I didn't sense danger nearby, so I turned my attention to the map and the distant motes of people in my head.

Well, there were three nearby, I had a vague impression of powers, but they weren't particularly familiar.

They were down the hall... I stepped away from the door, following the impression. Down the hall, there was a small lobby, a kind of bay between offices with a vending machine and couches. The floor... was splattered with paint? Ink? It looked like someone had taken a bucket of ink and upended it on the floor; it was splattered black all over. There was a line of it further down the hall, wall-to-wall right across the floor. I gingerly stepped around the ink, something about it made me wary; my power hinted at... awareness. Was it some kind of tripwire?

The front panels of the vending machines were opened, and a garbage bag full of sodas sat beside one-

Something landed on my shoulders, my instinctive reaction was to step back until I hit the wall. I choked and grabbed- it was a segmented band, and it moved against my throat like living wire. I gagged, flailing.

My power flooded my senses-

 _-glee, malicious intent, infantile and petty, and alien; not human-_

I clawed at my throat. A jointed construct with four appendages wrapped around my throat.

"Marionette!"

I threw myself back against the wall, and felt the band shift.

 _-strong, but flawed; detached with the correct application of leverage-_

I wrestled with them, pulling at them- but they wrestled back. The force that held them together was too strong for my fingers to find enough purchase. My blood was starting to roar in my ears.

I managed to clear a gap and sucked in air greedily, but the vice closed again on my windpipe.

Down the hall, Doctor Ferris had noticed what was happening, she was screaming, she had some thing out on a lanyard. A panic button. She was calling for security. Solace was nowhere to be seen, but Tagout was standing in the hall, watching me in fascination.

My power supplied a wealth of information- flooding me with suggestions, how to best escape. Weaknesses and the structure of vital components- but it was too heavily armored, the same kind of composite organic polymer Charnel was made of. I only understood what it was telling me in snatches and starts, and dark was starting to cloud my vision. Power, how it was powered- what generated the force -I latched on to that, and reached up. Wrenched-

"You wouldn't dare!"

-and popped it off.

Air!

I gasped as the pressure finally vanished all at once. Choking and gasping as the thing clattered to the floor in pieces. I tried to catch my breath.

"No! How dare you!" I looked down at the object I had pulled off, still grasped in my fist. It was about the size of an apple and most definitely a porcelain doll head. It was painted white, with little pink dots of blush on its cheeks, brown hair in a braid, it glared up at me. "Wipe that idiotic look off your face." It said.

I yelped and dropped it. Then felt silly for being startled, and gave it a kick.

"Hey- ow!"

The head bounced down the hall and landed at the feet of Lizard Prince, who was standing there, smiling at me.

"Prince! Help!" the errant head cried from the ground. Adding a little surreal vertigo to this strange little confrontation. "Majesty, I was wrongfully attacked by a sociopathic hoodlum." The head complained, "She attacked me without warning. Without Provocation."

He- Lizard Prince - turned his hand so the head could see me. Its beady little red eyes widened, "Yes! That's her! She ripped my head off; I demand we rip her head off, it's only fair."

"I dunno, she got a point." Prince said, quirking an eyebrow, "What do you say, Inkling?"

That was all the warning I got before something burst from the ink-covered wall. She swiped at my head, and I ducked away. A stream of the ink that gave Inkling her name followed her lunge, arcing up over the wall, and me.

I skidded to a stop, splattered in ink. Inkling stepped to the side, right into a trail of ink. There was a flicker of movement, she fell into the ink pool, and then Inkling darted out of another right beside me. She swiped at me again.

I yelped and rolled away, only for a stream of gummy threads to wrap around my feet, pinning them to the floor.

"Now, now, let's not get clever." Lizard Prince said, "Marionette, please?" He held out her head so she could see her body. The reaction was immediate and like magnetic attraction- the scattered segments and ball bearings jumped from the floor, rearranging and sorting themselves in their sockets. Fully assembled, she was a bit more than a foot and a half tall, and promptly dropped to the floor. She landed on all fours, stood, and gave me a baleful glare.

"Hey, you were the one who attacked her, Marionette. You didn't have to do that." Lizard Prince admonished, he looked at me, "Sorry about that, just looking for a bit of fun. Marionette can get carried away."

I massaged my neck, unsure of what to say. Inkling offered Marionette a short dress like an actual doll's, in orange. It was a little nonsensical, under the cloth her body was modular segments and ball sockets. There was nothing to see. I concentrated on her, narrowing my power's focus. She had some kind of stranger power. I could see her, but she made no sound. Some kind of perception filter? And how had I been able to wrench her head off, if she could reassemble herself like that? Was there a finite amount of force she could exert across all the segments of her body?

I could hear running feet.

"Time to go!" Lizard Prince said, lifting the garbage bag full of snacks and sodas over one shoulder. He looked at me and smiled, winking once, turning on his heel amid Marionette's bitter protests, Inkling followed. I sat up, feeling a little cheated and confused, while they ran down the hall.

They nearly made it to the end of the hall before a young woman in green met them. She was wearing a costume with a leaf and vine motif. As I watched, two more of her stepped around the corner. I couldn't be sure at this distance. Reading them at that range was spotty, and I was sure I'd never seen them before. But I was almost certain they were identical in every way. They were the same height, had the same hair, moved with that same odd stiffness.

"Surrender, Lizard Prince!" One said.

Kudzu. I knew that costume… that was Kudzu. Los Angeles Protectorate, a cloner. I blinked in surprise.

"Shit, Protectorate!" Inkling said.

Lizard Prince raised his hand, sending out a stream of sticky threads at the clones. The stream caught all of them, for a moment I thought that would be all. Instead three more clones popped into existence a moment later and began running toward Lizard Prince and Inkling. Then there were six, then nine.

"Go, Prince!" Inkling said, raising both hands and spraying all nine Kudzu, as well as most of the hall. Lizard Prince jumped straight up grabbed the ceiling and started running back along the ceiling upside down. Inkling dove into the ink-coated wall, which rippled like water. The parts of Marionette's body clattered to the floor amid a spray of ink, only to rise into the air and reform around one Kudzu's throat. The Kudzu clones hesitated a moment, and then the ground under their feet betrayed them. One tripped, then another, their legs pulled out from under them. I could sense Inkling moving rapidly throughout the splattered ink.

With a half dozen Kudzu occupied trying to contain Inkling, Lizard Prince ran across the ceiling above me uncontested, back towards Tagout and Doctor Ferris, the garbage bag swinging bellow him. Then Tagout leapt up and latched on to him. I could tell it took him by surprise. He wobbled for two more steps before whatever power kept him adhered to the ceiling failed and they both fell to the floor in a heap.

Tagout disentangled herself first, lacking the bulky bag. But when she jumped onto the wall much as I had seen Lizard Prince do before, I took notice. When she raised a hand and glued the garbage bag to the floor with the same sticky threads as Lizard Prince it clicked- she was a power copier?

Lizard Prince abandoned the garbage bag, limbs elongating to avoid Tagout's spray, and retaliated with a sweeping motion that sent threads from Tagouts shoulders down to her knees- completely encasing her. Doctor Ferris retreated and slammed the door shut, but Lizard Prince wasn't paying her any mind. The garbage bag full of cans and packages flew across the hall, cans rolled everywhere. At the other end of the hall, Summer Holiday turned the corner and skidded to a stop, black hair framing her face. She was _livid_ \- I could feel her emotions from where I lay, and immediately raised both hands towards Lizard Prince.

He retaliated by raising his hands and spraying her with a stream of threads. But they never landed; instead Summer Holiday released a steam of lights, like a roman candle, multicolored lights darting out and impacted his threads. They exploded in a star-burst of light that left spots dancing in my vision.

When I could see again, Summer was in his face, fists shining like flares, sending up a shower of sparks and a sound like a thunderclap every time a punch landed. I ducked.

One of Summer Holiday's concussive punches sent Lizard Prince flying, and his arms snaked out, much too long, to grab her ankles. Summer went head over heels, and turned it into a flip. I think she'd have landed it, but her prosthetic gave out under her, sending her to one knee. I followed Lizard Prince's trajectory to find him landed in a tangle of Kudzu. At least half a dozen. I could see three more pinning Inkling to the floor, all four splattered with ink from head to toe. Inkling's hands were cuffed behind her back, and she now wore a blindfold. Given that she wasn't struggling, I guessed she was unconscious. Two more Kudzu were struggling with a third, who was looking blue in the face- Marionette's components were still wrapped around her neck and arm.

I thought that was it, but Lizard Prince wasn't done just yet- his limbs were like rubber, and twisted free of the Kudzu, leaving behind more of the sticky threads. The Kudzu were a tangled mess.

Four more Kudzu appeared immediately, chasing him. But he didn't get far- Summer's kick caught him in the gut and bent him double. She bent down, caught him by the head and flipped him over her shoulder. One of the couches in the lobby caught him and cushioned his fall, flipping over on him. Lizard Prince snaked out, his whole body a long thread squirming loose, but it was too late, the Kudzu dogpiled him. He thrashed, freeing his head, but there were too many- at least eight piled on him now. Summer Holiday walked right up, and lifted her hand, which glowed white to his face. Lizard Prince's eye widened a moment before she snapped her fingers.

The sound left my ears ringing, and the light dazzled me. When I blinked my way past the spots in my eyes, Lizard Prince was limp and safely secured in a straightjacket. Someone bent down beside me, and I refocused- it was Summer Holiday.

"You okay, Auspice?" Summer asked.

"Uh, yeah." I said, glancing down at the sticky threads still pinning my legs to the floor.

"Hold on, kid, I got that." Summer drew a knife from her belt, and started cutting, "Sorry about this."

"No, it's... Fine, I guess." I said.

"Right," My legs were free, and Summer offered me a hand up, I took it gratefully.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Summer looked like she'd bit into a lemon, "Lizard Prince. He's done this before, though I never imagined he'd be this bold. Or stupid."

The lobby was a mess, the couches toppled, little magazine table crushed, stray cans of soda and bags of peanuts strewn everywhere. Ink covered everything, I looked down at my hands, I was smeared with it everywhere. Doctor Ferris was crouched beside one of the Kudzu, helping free Tagout. At least a dozen Kudzu clones were packed into the hall.

Summer turned to one of the Kudzu, "Do you have Marionette?"

"Already got her." the Kudzu pointed. One of the Kudzu had the discarded garbage bag in one hand. Suspicious movement stirred within.

"Let me out, bitch!" Marionette's voice came from the bag. The Kudzu shook it, hard, "Hey!"

"Good," Summer pulled a radio off her harness, "I have Prince, Inkling, and Marionette in admin. What's your status?"

Another voice replied, male, unfamiliar, "Quilt, Frog, and Prowler here. I'm guessing they were the distraction."

"I agree." Summer said, "I have Kudzu for transport, we'll be headed down to medium security now." She hooked the radio back onto her harness. Summer caught me staring, "Don't worry, kid. I don't think he's going to be pulling this stunt again."

I noticed Summer was limping a bit, favoring the side with her missing leg, "Are you all right?" I asked.

"This? It's nothing. It's actually kind of refreshing." She smiled and whipped a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, "Really takes me back..."

"Fuck."

We both glanced towards the Kudzu hefting Lizard Prince.

"Damnit." He cursed, blinking, "What was that for? All we wanted was some stupid soda."

"Then you should have surrendered when we asked you to." Summer said firmly, "It's your own damn fault."

"Hey, can you blame me?" He grinned. I could sense his cajoling, his nature as a charmer- he was used to using his good looks, and charming his way when his power failed him.

"I don't think you're going to be my problem much longer anyway." Summer said, "Your case review got bumped up. Turns out, monthly vandalism didn't endear your to the administration." She punctuated the last bit with a smile that Prince seemed not to find particularly reassuring.

Summer turned to me, "Can you make it back to your ward? I might need to ask you questions later, but this is probably under control. I'll let maintenance know about the mess, they'll have it covered."

I nodded, "Yeah. Okay."

Summer smiled and followed the troop of Kudzu as they toted off their captives.

I watched them go, feeling strangely... melancholy. It had been exciting, but... I hadn't done anything but get stuck in Lizard Prince's string. Walking back up the hallway, my foot kicked something- I looked down. The can was dented, but the seal was good... I picked up the soda. I could sense the pressure inside. I wouldn't be able to open it for awhile- not unless I wanted to get sprayed with soda.

I held on to it, for later.


	19. Altrical 3-4

**{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Dinner was a lonely meal, alone at an empty table. I didn't see Heather; I didn't see Nick or Charnel either.

There were a lot of unfamiliar faces, a lot of patients brought in from other portions of Alchemilla. Everywhere I looked there was some sign of the recent upset in Alchemilla's working. There were staff moving furniture, one memorable case of custodial staff trying to pry a sofa out of a storage closet it had somehow found its way into.

There were trashcans piled high with broken glass. Double security at checkpoints and in the cafeteria. I went back to my room early and felt drained. It was painfully reminiscent of the first days after I'd come to Alchemilla

Quiet. Cold. Alone.

Back in my room, There were a couple boxes for me. My exercise clothes, my shoes. A towel and clear water bottle.

I took one look at my computer and threw myself back into my coursework. I'd been gone for days, but I could try to keep up my pace. Thinking about everything that had happened, all of it, I could save that for therapy.

And, seeing Emma had reminded me why I wanted to graduate early. She was making the transition to the next period in her life; I didn't want to be left behind.

I finished a math paper and started reading another chapter of Oliver Twist, but I couldn't concentrate. My mind kept drifting to Mimi and Elle, or to Mom and Emma. Mom taught literature, I wondered when was the last time she had read Oliver Twist. What she would have said about it, what insights she would have had. She always had something to say, and it always sounded so clever and wise.

What would Mom say about Oliver Twist?

I missed Mom.

The clock moved much too slowly. Eventually, I laid my head back, set the book on my chest and stared up at the ceiling. It felt like... like I was dreaming. I closed my eyes and wished I could just let myself drift off...

I started thinking.

Using my power in Doctor Selmy's office had been an eye-opening experience. Experimenting with what I could do had already pushed back my limits further than I'd ever hoped I could, and actually feeling out my limits had left me feeling empowered, centered and grounded. I had felt in control, not helpless and rudderless.

Curiously, I touched my power. That sense of that network of rooms and hallways, and the people in them.

Most were asleep now, but there were still some- staff, I thought. Security, janitors, nurses...

I held up my hand, the one Wine had healed and looked at the smooth, unblemished skin. I flexed my fingers, made a fist, opened my hand and looked at it. Then, cautiously, turned my power on my arm.

The bone and muscle under my skin. I flexed my arm and felt the movement with an awareness I'd never had before, I could feel how far I stretched when I reached, and felt the contraction when I pulled back. I made a fist and threw a mock punch.

I frowned and lifted my other arm, flexing both together. The skin on the arm that had been burnt and healed was more elastic, and when I flexed it moved slightly more freely. I'd never noticed.

This warranted action! I sat up and got out of bed, got down on the floor and tried some stretches, pushups, sit-ups. For the first time, I tried incorporating my power into the movements, turning it on my body.

Using my power on myself was strangely soothing. I could feel the effort, how it was applied, and got a sense of where it was being wasted. I adjusted my arms and my pace, feeling out the differences, the nuances. My heartbeat became a tempo I could hear, like heavy bass music in the background. My breathing became a steady, sustained counterbeat. I could feel my nervous system becoming more active. I started to sweat.

The range of motion, momentum, and the pace, tempo; I I could feel my limbs more acutely than I had ever imagined possible. I could feel the surface of the floor under my hands and feet, feel how the friction of the carpet kept me fixed in place. An awareness of my body and the room around me, it was almost invasive. It was heady, and invigorating.

I stopped after my muscles started trembling, sweat beading on my brow. I toweled my face, wishing I'd changed into my actual exercise clothes first- that was a little annoying. But, wow. I felt energized. I felt _good_.

Really good.

I lay back down on my bed, listening to my heartbeat and thinking about that. I would start using the exercise room. If I was going to be a hero, I'd need to be physically fit anyway, and I still needed to make up for how inactive I'd been in isolation. I wanted to keep experimenting too, that... it had felt very strange, to know so much about what I was doing. That felt like...

I wasn't sure.

I'd need to keep working on that, see what else I could sense, and what I could do with it. That had felt like the tip of something much larger. I thought about how using my power on the things around me gave me awareness of them, even when I wasn't specifically using my power on them any more. The way I was aware of Alchemilla now. What would using my power on myself do, if I did it enough?

It was something to look forward to.

I picked up Oliver Twist, and turned the page.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I still had four hours until morning, and I spent most of that reading, and when I wasn't reading I was thinking, or writing in my notebooks. But when morning did roll around, I opened the door and stepped out wearing my sweats and sneakers. I headed to the exercise room. The nurse on duty offered to walk me through the machines available and help me build a workout program.

It wasn't long before someone else arrived. Lethe and Fusor walked in together, and both of them started on the treadmills. I gave Lethe a wave and she waved back.

The nurse (an 'S. Kendell' this time) showed me an elliptical trainer, a hybrid lateral pull and triceps cable machine, shoulder press- each modified to go up to seven hundred pounds of weight, apparently, to accommodate Brutes. He showed me how to adjust the weight and the proper way to lift the weights. He also advised me to warm up with running on the treadmills first, and stretching.

"There is a yoga group, actually." Kendall explained, they meet in the gymnasium on Wednesdays and Fridays."

Oh, that sounded interesting, "It's... Uh." Labyrinth's world happened Friday, I was out Saturday. Mom visited Sunday. "Tuesday, right?"

"That's right."

Kendell a bulletin board with fliers for activities in the exercise room. There were basketball games in the gym, I knew that- Heather had mentioned them once, I think. There was a play coming up too. That sounded interesting.

"All right," I said, siting down at one of the machines. Time to experiment. I realized a second later that whoever had used it last had left the weights on and I was trying to lift almost four times my body weight, and had to set it lower.

"Auspice?" Fusor had got off the treadmill and walked up to me where I was trying out the thirty pound plate with my back turned to him.

I startled and flinched, and then tried to smile up at his bearded, hard-featured face. He had shoulders like a bear and arms that looked like braided iron cables. I caught myself wondering what he'd looked like a decade or so before.

"Um." I fumbled, unused to him seeking me out. Fusor had always been this presence in the background whenever I saw him. Usually with Lethe, I kind of suspected he'd known her back when she still went out in costume as Falconer.

He didn't talk much.

"I heard what happened to your friend, Cidersong..." He frowned.

I sensed a struggle, as his hands clenched and opened, "If you ever want to talk, I can listen." he said.

"T-thanks..."

He turned around and walked back to the treadmill without another word, leaving me a little bewildered, confused, and just a touch intimidated.

"Thanks? I guess?"

I saw Nick at breakfast and asked him about it, since he'd known about Alpha Lyrae. I was guessing he'd know something about Fusor too. I knew I'd guessed right when his mouth narrowed to a thin line.

"Fusor... He, um, has a shield, you know?" Nick said.

"Yeah." Fusor had been famous for it, he had a strong shield that got stronger with every blow it successfully weathered. He'd been one of the big four in shielding- alongside Narwhal, Bastion, and Marble as the strongest force field generators in North America. Narwhal was known for the organic and highly malleable shape of her fields, lack of Manton restrictions, and audacious choice in costumes. Bastion for the size of the area he could cover, duration, and ability to make his shields selectively permeable. Marble was famous for being able to incorporate other powers and the objects into her effects, and for being able to move her shields around very freely. Fusor's powers were almost mundane compared to Narwhal, or Marble, but of the four Fusor had undoubtedly been the one with the highest raw durability.

Which was one of the things that mildly confused me- he'd been a fairly big name for a while, then the Chicago roster had simply dropped him. Fusor had participated in several Endbringer fights, he was a veteran with considerable experience. Why drop him? Why was he even here?

"He had a second trigger event." Nick said.

I frowned, "Trigger events- I've read about trigger events. That's how a parahuman gains their powers... So, a second trigger is like that? It can happen more than once?"

"It's more than that, Taylor." Nick said, "A, uh, trigger is the lowest point of someone's life, when they are at their most desperate. When they don't have anywhere to go, when they can't, uh, escape." Nick looked into the distance absently, far away, "A point that changes them forever..." He murmured, looking at something I couldn't see or know.

I thought about Fusor and triggers. About what Nick had said. A second trigger. I remembered my own- Mom and me, in that ally, with the bodies on the ground and the warmth on my hands and the smell.

The cafeteria was quiet that morning; a lot of the usual faces had been shuffled around following the upheaval of the previous week. There were a lot of Kudzu- I could see four on the walkways above the cafeteria floor, and to more by the doors on the patient level. I idly wondered if Kudzu was going to be transferred to Alchemilla permanently.

My eyes wandered over the patients, mostly blue scrubs, except for me. I wondered what Nick saw, what his power was giving him. I directed my power to one then another, idly skimming. It was interesting, I couldn't pull much off them if I'd only seen them once, but the surface impressions were sometimes very strong. That one over there, the man with the brown hair and the droopy eyes, I was picking up some kind of mental power from him. Something to do with emotions, but also... something to do with his surroundings. A perception power tied to what... had been? Postcognition?

"A second trigger is when it happens again?" I asked.

"No." Nick said. I looked up, frowning, but he elaborated, "It's worse. It, um, varies from cape to cape, but it's generally worse. Uh, whatever happened to them before, taken further, or over a longer period of time, or... It's just worse. And when you second trigger, when you reach that point, when you don't have anywhere you can go your power, or whatever it is that gives powers, it changes your power."

"Usually it relaxes restrictions, makes it easier to access, or makes it more flexible." Nick said, "Fusor's second trigger added something to his power, so that when his shield is hit, it does more than just get stronger. Now it... if something hits it, his shield counterattacks. Like, it counter strikes with an energy pulse that fries whatever hit him. But he was in the middle of a fight."

I thought about that, Fusor's team used to have a strategy of attacking his fields, using his field's increased strength to outlast fights. But, if it counterstruck...

I felt cold, "What happened?"

"Two of his team died." Nick said shortly.

We were silent for several minutes, I ate my oatmeal and bowl of mixed fruit. Drank my boxed milk.

"How do you know all of that, Nick?" I asked, "I couldn't find anything online."

"Know what people are ashamed of, remember?" Nick said, staring at the table miserably, "It's how I know..."

For the first time, I thought I understood, truly understood what Nick had meant by his power being distasteful to use. Frightening. Just a little. But in understanding, I could also feel his own discomfort, and it became less frightening for it. "It's okay Nick." I said.

Nick didn't say anything for a moment, but I could feel some of the tension drain out of him.

"Some people think when you get your powers that it changes you so you always seek out situations like the one that gave you powers." Nick said.

"Really?"

"It's a theory, why a lot of parahumans are violent, uh, why they seek out uses for their powers that involve fighting."

What would that mean, for me? For trying to leave Alchemilla? I thought about Mimi, here four years and without hope of ever leaving. Of Heather, and how she aggressively toed the line. About Lizard Prince... There was a parallel, between Heather and Lizard Prince and the disregard, the disrespect they showed for rules at Alchemilla. Harassing the staff and other patients without the need to do so, because they could. Why did Heather insist on doing that?

"Have you seen Heather today?" I asked.

Nick looked up, "No, why?"

"I wanted to talk to her."

"We have a workshop later, I can tell her if you'd like?"

"That's all right, I can..." I trailed off.

The cafeteria doors opened. Quilt and Frog entered, and I could feel emotions from them-

 _-anger, fear, sorrow-_

They moved along the line with four trays, not two. I didn't see Lizard Prince anywhere, or Marionette, or Inkling or that other one- the cat man? Quilt and Frog filled their platters and instead of moving to the table, shuffled out the door with their arms full.

"What is it?" Nick asked.

"That was Lizard Prince's gang."

Nick shot a wary look towards the door, "Are they up to something?"

"I... Don't think so." I said.

"You can't tell?" Nick asked, disappointed. Oh, all my friends all have too much faith in me.

"No, my power needs time to work across a room, I don't know them well." I glanced at him, "What about you?"

"Quilt is always afraid of being unwanted. Uh, she's ashamed of how afraid she is of abandonment. Frog wants to be supportive, to be closer to her, but he can't talk and can't understand speech. No mouth. He barely looks human and hates it."

I turned and looked at him.

"Sorry." He said, leaning away and looking uncomfortable.

I shook my head, "You just surprised me. You got all that from across the room?"

"Not all of it, I've talked to them before." He looked up, the relief that I wasn't cringing away from him was palpable, "I can read the broad strokes by looking at them, but if I want more I have to get closer."

"Huh. All right." That was interesting. I wondered if Nick ever experimented with his power, or if he hated it too much. It sounded like it'd be unpleasant, but it could be useful...

But what about Quilt and Frog? I concentrated on my sense of the hallway outside, and the motes moving along it. With breakfast still being eaten, there weren't many. Two, moving together were easy to pick out.

And there was something off.

I wondered what made me so sure. Maybe it was that there were only the two, when I'd only ever seen Lizard Prince's clique as a group. Where were the rest of them? I wasn't sure what it was, but it rubbed me the wrong way...

"Hey, Nick, come with me."

I stood up. Nick looked confused, "Why?"

"I want to find out where they were going, come on."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Nick followed me looking very unsure of himself and maybe just a little resigned. I wondered if it was a bit of Heather rubbing off on me and browbeating him into submission by proxy Previously, only Heather had managed to produce that reaction from him with any kind of regularity, so I tried to imagine that was a sign of growing friendship. I also promised myself I'd find a way to make it up to him. He had enough shit to deal with from Heather, but one thing at a time...

I trailed behind Quilt and Frog, with Nick in turn trailing behind me with a faint cloud of dissatisfaction hanging over him, and the two of us worked our way back through the patient rooms. I almost wouldn't call it following, because I didn't need to see them, I could sense where they were through the walls and in the map I had built of Alchemilla in my head. Even after they went into a section of patient rooms that I hadn't been through more than once, their positions relative to myself remained clear enough to allow me to track them. It was a little heady, a taste of what I could do, to operate with this kind of super-awareness.

Neither of the two we were following were moving particularly fast, probably because they were carrying those loaded trays, so we started catching up. Eventually, Quilt and Frog both stopped at a door. By then Nick and I were following them from around the corner, and I could hear them knock on a door. After a couple moments, I heard the door open. The door closed and I turned the corner, Nick still following gamely on my heels. It was one more door in a hallway of door with numbers and letters.

At the far end of the hall I could see a nursing station with an armored guard loitering nearby.

My power hinted that he was a lot more aware than he immediately appeared. A significant portion of his attention was not fixed on the pretty nurse he was chatting with, but actually on the hall I was walking down. He wasn't watching it constantly, just standing nearby, but it made me vaguely nervous.

The door I was looking for was marked 015. I rested a hand on the doorframe, listening. I could hear talking, and sense four warm bodies with at least mild familiarity. Their voices sharpened as I bent my power to that impression of the acoustics in the room.

Quilt was talking, quietly and gently, "You feeling up to going out today Ink?"

There was a sound that I couldn't immediately place, a mewling, reedy bubbling sound.

"That's okay. That's okay, you feel up to some breakfast?"

"We got some food for yah." said another voice. I didn't recognize it, though it sounded vaguely male, if a man had sandpaper for vocal cords.

"Yeah, we got you something." Quilt said, "Want to give it a try?"

The burbling continued, rising and falling in pitch, hitching and stuttering. It sounded like water trapped and bubbling in a pipe, until it dawned on me that it was the sound of someone crying. I tried to imagine it as something else, but couldn't manage it. And then I froze because that feeling of being watched, the feeling of eyes settling on the back of my head, was back.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up.

Was it the Masked Man? It felt different this time. Not a feeling of being hunted, more like someone suddenly passing by a window I was peeking through and noticing me.

I was still trying to place it when the door opened and I came face to face with Frog. You didn't appreciate the fact he didn't have a mouth, that his eyes were lidless and the size of grapefruits, until you were standing three feet from him with the full weight of that stare on you. All of which was immediately blocked when the man with the teeth, Prowler, stepped in front of me.

I swallowed, my throat dry, "Hi."

He was larger than Frog, heavily muscled, and all those teeth; I took a step back. "What're you doing here?"

"I-I... I saw you at breakfast," I said, "I thought maybe something was wrong." I said, which was basically true and at any rate I couldn't think of anything better to say in light of all those teeth.

"We were worried!" Nick said. I was surprised that he'd stepped in and spoken up.

"Fuck off Auspice." Prowler growled, "Don't want you here, Protectorate."

"I'm not with the Protectorate." I said carefully. The strange sobbing still gurgled in the back of the room, but I couldn't see anything beyond Prowler. Where did he get the idea I was with the Protectorate?

"Don't care, get lost." I hadn't realized before he lifted his hands, but those strange structures on his arms and his far too many teeth were not the only mutations. He had inch-long claws too.

 _-anger, sorrow; looking for an emotional outlet; history of violence; inclined to view strangers as enemies-_

Antagonizing him seemed like a bad idea, in fact I was starting to realize this was a bad idea in general. I raised my hands and backed away a step. But someone else spoke up from in the room.

"Prowler, honey. Please."

Prowler stiffened, "Quilt, stay out of this. Ink don't need anyone else telling her she fucked up."

"And she doesn't need you growling in the door either." Quilt said, "So move it, or shut your mouth."

Prowler snarled, showing more teeth than a shark, but stepped out of the way grumbling and muttering under his breath, giving me a clear view of the room.

It looked like a tiny art studio, every inch of the walls were covered in paper, or hidden behind canvasses. Some were abstract, others were covered with dense lines of flowing symbols, script. I didn't recognize the language, but I was almost sure they weren't Kanji. Others were landscapes, and a few were of patients and doctors. I recognized Frog, Prowler, Quilt, Inkling herself; Lizard Prince featured prominently.

Two cafeteria trays lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, next to Quilt. She was sitting beside Inkling, rubbing her back, and Inkling might have been the biggest surprise waiting for me. Inkling was completely removed from the menacing parahuman that had taken a swipe at me yesterday. Her face was blotchy, eyes puffy, and it appeared that she wept more of her ink instead of tears- the effect was almost like she'd been wearing heavy mascara before she'd started. Inkling's hands were ink stained to the wrists, and there were black smears on her scrubs and on the bed. So much of it that I wondered if it was tears after all, or if she actually secreted ink. Her... hair.. head-tentacle things moved, coiling in and out in agitation. It was weird, this was the first time I'd seen her up close, really gotten to look at her without some other distraction interfering. She had the two big flat ones framing her face, one on either side, and also a knot of them tied up behind her head.

They were hairless, and shiny-smooth. The outer surfaces were dark purple that was almost black, speckled violet, while the undersides were pale cream.

 _-Sorrow-_

I blinked in shock. Inkling was in pain, I could feel her guilt- and it surprised me, it rocked me back on my heels. It had taken a great deal of familiarity to start picking up on emotions that clearly from someone. Or, maybe it was just that clear, and that sharp... The others too, all of them were deeply sad, or tortured in guilt, or boiling with anger. But none of them were like Inkling.

One of Inkling's canvasses lay on the floor in front of her, this one was Lizard Prince and Inkling, and suddenly the bottom dropped out of my stomach- I understood why Inkling was broken up like this.

Frog Tapped me on the shoulder, jarring my out of my surprise. He raised one finger, then made a so-so gesture with one hand and pointed to Inkling, then traced a trail down his cheek with one finger.

I stared at him a moment, then looked back at Inkling.

"Hello?" I said cautiously, then, "Are you all right?"

Inkling's tendrils curled in, and she hiccupped wetly, more ink ran down her cheeks, before she looked at me.

"What do you want?" She demanded, with a little more heat than I expected. Her four-pointed pupils had narrowed to little black crosses. She showed her teeth, it was like they were all fused together, a single shelf of bone in her mouth that rose to three triangular points.

"I wanted to see how you were doing." I said, trailing off. I hadn't thought this through, I think, "Are you all right?"

"The fuck, _why_?" Inkling hiccupped, her lip trembled, then she leapt off the bed right at me. Ink sprayed in a wave, I stumbled back with a squawk, blinded. I could feel her power work, and she moved ten feet across the room in her ink trail in a blink. Without my normal sight to guide me, my power gave me a second's warning before her fist could hit my jaw and I dodged, but failed to avoid the second blow which caught me in the stomach and bent me double and heaving on the ground.

Inkling kicked me in the ribs, rolling me over. She lifted her foot to kick me again and I felt her weight, supported on one leg- my power supplied and angle and the force, and I reached out, toppling her with one arm as I scrambled to my feet. Inkling fell to the ground, but instead of a thud, there was a ripple like water disturbed by a diver and she vanished under the surface of the ink.

I pulled myself to my feet, warily backed against the wall. When Inkling reappeared, she rose from the floor, already standing upright, she was facing me- her eyes didn't need to seek me out. Quilt, Frog, and Prowler piled out of her room, forming a tense line of solidarity behind her.

Nick hadn't abandoned me- he was at my back, eyes darting back and forth. He had scrambled out of the line of fire and was only lightly splattered. The guard that had been standing over by the nursing station was moseying down the hall, one hand on his radio.

Inkling stood glaring at me until her eyes started tearing up again, she sniffled and wiped her face on the back on her hand.

 _-grief, sorrow, guilt, anger-_

"No, I'm not fucking all right." Inkling warbled, "I got Patrick sent to the 'cage."

Behind her, Quilt immediately spoke up, "You didn't! Prince did what he wanted and you know it; he was looking for some trouble, he would have found it without you."

"He was smart" Inkling snapped, "If he'd come up with it he'd have gotten away with it!" She glared at me.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, until Inkling started sniffling again.

Inkling frowned at me with watery eyes, then cradled her face in her hands and sobbed, "They're caging Patrick…"

"What happened?" I asked cautiously.

Quilt stepped in, rubbing Inkling's back. "Lizard Prince was sent to Baumann Penitentiary." Quilt said at last, "He was shipped out last night."

She raised her head, took a look at me, and shot a questioning look at Frog. He raised his hands and began to sign- too quick and fluid for me to keep up with. Inkling was still crying, Quilt wrapped her in a hug and guided her back into her room.

So, Summer Holiday had made good on her threat. When she'd said his case review got 'bumped up', I'd thought he'd get transferred to a different wing, or brought before a board or something first. But maybe that had already happened? Maybe Summer had other things on her plate and didn't have any patience for Lizard Prince taking advantage of the disorder in Alchemilla to cause additional havoc. The tension of Inkling's initial outburst had dissipated some, but Frog and Prowler were still watching me.

"The Birdcage?" Nick asked in surprise, "I, um, didn't think..."

He trailed off under Prowler's glare, "Yeah, the Birdcage, where the Protectorate throws everyone they don't got the stomach to kill. Prince pushed too many times, they got tired of cleaning up the messes, and he not a Protectorate, so he got cut out." He turned and smiled at me. All those teeth... his long, thin tongue flicked out, and he hissed, "Protectorate get out of Alchemilla, the rest of us rot."

Mimi had said something like that too, hadn't she?

Doctor Yamada would be calm and composed, in command of herself, and thus in command of the situation. Doctor Selmy would have a charismatic flair, he'd win them over by connecting to them.

What would Mom do?

"You knew him a long time?" I asked.

"Yeah." Prowler said, "He looked out for us ever since he got here. Don't get that a lot, looking like we do."

I looked at his rows and rows of teeth, and had to agree. A glance and I saw Nick was still at my back, bravely sticking with me.

"I'm sorry." I said, feeling a little hollow.

Prowler narrowed his eyes and snorted, then turned and stormed off down the hall.

I turned to Frog, who shrugged and lifted his hands to offer a couple quick gestures that I utterly failed to grasp. Frog using sign language should have surprised me less. His profile of Parahumans Online said he couldn't understand spoken language... Uh... Fluent aphasia? I think that's what it was called. But I was a little disappointed that my power didn't allow me to immediately grasp what he was saying. It was like a new language.

I got the general impression of... An apology. Could I use my power to learn sign language? I'd need to find out... but that was something for later.

I sighed. "Thanks for sticking with me, Nick."

I gave Frog a wave, and he nodded, so at least that bridged the gap. He returned my wave and stepped back into Inkling's room, closing it behind him. I watched him go feeling a little dejected. At the far end of the hall, the security guard was back at the nursing station, but I could feel his eyes on me.

That left Nick and I alone in the hall. I looked down and my hands, covered in ink, feeling drained.

"Let's not do that again." Nick pleaded.

He sounded a little desperate, but I guess he hadn't liked being dragged along for my poorly thought out excursion. Another thought occurred and I frowned, "Oh damn it. Heather is going to hate me for dragging you along on this without her."

Nick just groaned.


	20. Altrical 3-5

**{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Lizard Prince left Alchemilla with little fanfare, the doctors didn't make an announcement, one day he was there, the next he was gone. He wasn't alone either, after asking around a bit I discovered Elephant was gone too; little chance of rehabilitation and a murder on her record. Second chances were all used up.

I couldn't find it in my heart to feel bad for her, not after Benny. but I felt bad for Inkling. I still saw her- and Quilt, and Frog, and Prowler -in the cafeteria. I didn't see Marionette. I guess she was in solitary, like Summer had said she would be. She, at least, hadn't gone out with Lizard Prince and Elephant. Maybe she had been in solitary before too, and Labyrinth's world let her out? I didn't know.

The next week was full of schedules getting shuffled as a new routines were built around refurbishing the damage. Which actually meant there were materials shipped in, and work crews augmented by dozens upon dozens of Kudzu clones moving through to other sections of the hospital at irregular intervals. Security was really tight.

A lot of my time was spent in the common rooms, in the sun-room, and working in the exercise room experimenting with my power. Not like I had before- turning it on and off, or focusing on one thing. I was trying to use it on a larger scale, but also to use it more specifically, switching between them, effortlessly using both.

Being burnt by Mimi, and surprised by Marionette, had happened because I was not using my power in its broader application. But I couldn't ignore the information that more specific applications provided. And I wanted to know the full extent of what using my power on myself could do with enough practice. Three different ranges of application with different effects.

I set my sights on a balance between all three.

Even though I saw her a few times, I didn't try talking to Inkling again. It... didn't feel right. I hadn't meant to intrude on a private moment, butt in to her mourning, I'd just been curious. But I didn't have any right to be sticking my nose in her business. Maybe, later, after she had some time to grieve.

In that time, two more patients arrived at Alchemilla and passed through observation. Both of them capes with mutations. The staff called them Oilbloom and Mantellum.

Oilbloom was lanky, with fluffy hair and a mane or scruff around her neck that shortened into velvety down over the rest of her body, all of which was cotton-candy pink. She also had a pair of short horns and eyes with black sclera. Her coloring complimented her orange scrubs.

Mantellum looked like a human manta ray, or maybe a snake with a human torso on the end. A cobra with an enormous hood, or a caped lizard or something, it fell in layered folds around him, with a thick tail extending from the base of his spine. He was mostly mottled green and brown, but his face and belly- his underside was pale yellow. He wore blue, but he couldn't wear a pair of regular scrubs like the rest of us, he needed a hole to accommodate the tail and the mantle meant he couldn't wear a shirt at all.

Quilt took them both under her wing, and incorporated them into Lizard Prince's gang immediately. I was surprised how quickly the gang folded them in.

When I asked her about it, Quilt looked at me sadly, "Case fifty-threes stick together." she said, and gave me a brittle smile, "Prince looked after us, we gotta keep up the tradition."

I had to look that up. 'Case fifty-three' was a term derived from a string of related cases, capes with severe mutations or physical abnormalities and- this was the point that tied them all together -no memories. They had no pasts prior to having powers, and usually prominent physical mutations. The phrase had been coined after the fifty-third concurrent case was recorded.

There were a lot of theories why they existed, but nothing concrete; and a long, long list of parahumans known to be, or speculated to be.

Mantellum himself seemed nice enough. He had the strangest accent, I could not for the life of me place it. If it wasn't for the whole has-a-tail thing, I'd say he was attractive. It helped that he walked around without a shirt. But his power, it was eerie- it interfered with mine. He could project fields in layers, each successive layer denied sensory input, at about fifteen to twenty feet it dulled touch and smell, made Thinker powers (like mine) unreliable. Further in, my power outright ceased functioning and it felt like I was numbed and peering through a fog. At five feet no senses worked at all.

It was a strange sensation, after working to acclimate myself to all the extra sensory input from my power, to have everything, even my mundane senses stripped away... the state was unnerving. It reminded me of the Masked Man and made goosebumps rise on my arms.

Oilbloom seemed pretty cheerful and friendly. Her power was similar to Inkling's in some ways, it created streams of acid instead of ink and she had some kind of body enhancement. Strength or reflexes, or both. I talked to her during lunch once, and she got along well with Heather, which was a plus.

With that exception, the week went slowly, the big surprise didn't come until the next Thursday, when Doctor Yamada stepped in to talk to me after breakfast, interrupting my morning workshop.

"Auspice, can I borrow you for a moment?"

I hadn't invested myself all that deeply in my sketch of a sunset as seen through a window; all I had done was draw a square and find myself at a loss, adding additional squares until it became a window and I started trying to fill in what was beyond the panes. It was probably a lost effort. I stood and followed Yamada out into the hall.

"Taylor, how have you been doing?" she asked.

"Okay." I shrugged.

A smile ghosted its way across her lips, "Not much to report?" she asked.

I shrugged again.

"Well, they say that no news is good news. Though I suppose that would make me the bearer of bad news." She said, "A couple of the staff wanted to talk to you. They were going to put it off until next week, but I'm going to be on the Northeast circuit at the end of the month. I wanted to get this out of the way first."

"Sure... Um, what is it about?"

"It's..." She hesitated, I sensed faint amusement-humor-coy, "Well, maybe it ought to be a surprise."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Doctor Yamada led me to a small conference room, the really little one at the end of the hall where my regular therapy group met. It was kind of this placeholder room that took up the space left over after the larger workshops and meeting rooms had been made, and was only about half their size. Most of it was dominated by a table, a sturdy conference table surrounded by a ring of chairs.

There were two other doctors waiting for us- nervous and bespectacled Fox; and severe, hawkish Werneck. Doctor Yamada rounded them out, warmer and more open, and gave me a smile. But the faces that caught me off guard were sitting across from them.

Mimi sat slightly hunched, staring at her knees with her feet tucked under her chair. Two seats to her left, Elle sat gazing absently at the florescent lights.

"Mimi, Elle!" I said, and broke into a wide grin.

Mimi looked up and straightened, her body language changed immediately. Her feet came forward and rested on the floor, her shoulders squared. She looked threadbare and exhausted but her expression transformed and went from sallow to bright, "T-Taylor!"

Elle's eyes drifted down from the lights too, and settled on me. Her expression didn't change, but I could feel her emotions, they were a counterpart to Mimi's shy joy. I could feel Doctor Yamada's warm sentiments radiating off her as she sat down beside Fox and Werneck.

"Let's all have a seat," Doctor Werneck said, clearing his throat and nodding to the empty chair beside Elle. I sat down smiling.

"Auspice." Doctor Yamada said, "We're looking to try something, a collaborative project between you and Burnscar and Labyrinth. A sponsor program."

"Yes. A number of staff have noted how you've reached out to other patients." Doctor Werneck added, "Doctors Yamada and Selmy recommended you very highly."

"Well, Doctor Selmy was pitching the idea. The interim director didn't like it, of course, But Doctor Ferris backed him up," Doctor Yamada said, "When I heard about it, I was sure it could work."

Doctor Fox adjusted his glasses, "Burnscar and Labyrinth in particular are patients that we've been looking to get more socialization, Labyrinth hasn't had many opportunities to socialize with the broader resident population. Both have mixed histories here." He paused and cleared his throat, "And while Burnscar has undergone brief exposure to lower security wings, it was never on or intended to be on a permanent basis. We are hoping that this would be something to build on."

I straightened, "I'd love to help!"

Doctor Fox nodded, "Burnscar, would you be willing to work with Auspice?"

"Y-yes!" Mimi said.

Elle turned to look at me, staring blankly. I reached out and took her hand. There was uncertainty there, but also, faintly, hope, interest, and curiosity. She hadn't been to the low security wards, I remembered.

"Labyrinth has already expressed a desire to undertake this program," Doctor Yamada said, and smiled for me. Doctor Fox also nodded, returning my smile more cautiously.

"I know, I can sense it," I said, and smiled for her, giving her hand a little squeeze.

Doctor Werneck was pleased, a businesslike emotion from him. He clapped his hands once, and lifted a clipboard. "Good, good. Now, Burnscar, Labyrinth. This is not going to be a one-sided effort. Auspice is going to help you get oriented and help you. But you are going to have to make a concerted effort of your own."

Elle looked at Doctor Werneck blankly, but Mimi's eyes dropped to her hands. Her pleasant emotions faded rapidly until she was full of bleak resignation, "Yes sir."

He continued talking. Burnscar was to be kept away from open flames, lit cigarettes and lighters. She was not allowed to use her pyrokinesis without permission from one of the senior doctors. If she did use it, I was to find security and inform them. Security was aware she would be present, but if her eyes started glowing, or she became violent, report it to security immediately.

I understood. A procedure only existed because something had happened before. But by the time we left the room Mimi had already hit a deep low point.

Doctor Werneck reminded her of failures, his involvement and mannerisms did not inspire confidence in Mimi the way Yamada did in me. Mimi was already wilted under the weight of his dry, impartial, clinical voice. Doctor Werneck didn't seem to notice, or care. Was he one of her doctors? I found myself beginning to actually dislike him.

He started us off on the wrong foot and it hurt Mimi's chances before she even began.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Soooo…" Heather said slowly, she glanced to her right, and to her left with eyes narrowed at my table guests. Mimi looked intensely uncomfortable. Elle looked… pensive?

I took that as a good sign.

Cafeteria staff were bustling with pans and steaming serving trays behind the glass on the serving wall. I felt a little attention on us from attentive orderlies and security, but overall we had the room to ourselves. There were only a handful of patients in the cafeteria, lunch wasn't for another half hour so most of the patients present were at my table.

Heather and Nick sat beside me on one side of the table, with the others across from us. Nick looked like he was about to have a panic attack, and kept shooting glances Mimi's way, I could feel his power active and reading. I was actually pleased that Heather had come over and joined us. Her moods had been up and down ever since our last group meeting. She wasn't avoiding me exactly, but she was mercurial and fickle. It wasn't until she sat across from a wilting Mimi, with eyes narrowed, exuding speculation and consideration, that I realized the potential for this becoming a truly dire disaster.

"Soooo," Heather repeated, "You guys going to be regulars in our little clique now?"

"U-um…" Mimi stuttered.

"Yes, probably." I said.

"So, wait, why does Burnscar have to follow you around?" Heather asked, "She's been up here before."

Anger from Mimi, "Don't call me that!" she snapped in response. She clamped down hard on her emotions, the anger stifled almost at once.

Heather leaned back, "Heh, yeah..." she said, not pushing now. She'd poke again, though.

"Mimi's trying to make a permanent move to low-security." I said.

"What?" Heather replied, heavily emphasizing the 'wh' and somehow sounding both outraged and curious. Heather and Nick digested that and Mimi stared at the table. Elle sat kicking her feet lightly.

"Well, I guess the docs are looking to try something new for you?" Heather said at last- which impressed me, it wasn't particularly sensitive, but for her that was trying.

Mimi had been kind of down ever since the meeting with the doctors, and regardless of Heather's intentions, I could feel her wilting further.

"It's a chance for both of them to get out of medium security and try something different with a little more support." I said diplomatically, "I'll just be helping them adjust for a few weeks."

It was interesting, I had a sense that if I outright sided with Mimi, then Heather would poke and see how far she could push. If I agreed with Heather, it would weigh down Mimi's emotional roller coaster and prompt her to descend further, faster, and it would rebound the other direction even more quickly and abruptly.

Nick gave a nervous smile, "Well, I hope it-it goes well for you."

Heather turned away from Mimi and looked at Elle, "And you're Labyrinth?"

Elle looked up and met her eyes, but didn't speak.

More patients were starting to filter in for lunch, and the serving line was set up. It looked like lunch was ready.

"Well," Heather said, "This is gonna be something. Some kind of thing." I could feel how gleeful she was. Oh dear...

Mimi looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to be intimidated or not. She wasn't used to all the attention, and I could tell it was wearing her down. I wondered when the last time she'd had a meaningful conversation with more than one person had been.

"... We can hang out after breakfast tomorrow, if you like?" I asked.

"Cool." Heather said, grinning. _Shit._

Neither Heather nor Nick had anything until ten. I didn't mind hanging out with them, even with Elle and Mimi in tow, but I needed a way to rein Heather in. I could feel her getting worked up to an outrageous fit, it would probably end in tears for someone.

"That's great." Nick said, "We'll head out after meds... Actually, that kind of reminds me, Heather. I think Doctor Armando was looking for you."

"Lay off." Heather said, who looked both defiant and guilty and caught out. "Those pills make me feel sick."

"You've been skipping your medication?" I asked. How had she managed that?

Well, I guess with all the chaos of the last week, skipping out on meds was actually pretty understandable.

"You need to take your pills, Heather." Nick said, then looked over her shoulder. I followed his gaze out over the tables. The cafeteria was still pretty empty, so it wasn't hard to pick out who he'd seen. There was a doctor was walking towards our table, a barrel-chested man with caramel-brown skin and short, black hair. Heather didn't see him immediately. His attention was not directed at me, it was directed at Heather, and what I could read off him was stern...

"Glassboom." Heather froze, and then slowly turned to look up at him, "Glassboom, can you come with me for a minute please?"

Heather looked up at the doctor with a mutinous expression, but stood with only a minimal allowance of grumbling. And I noticed Nick... He watched Heather leave, neutral, strangely so. I detected satisfaction and deception too- and most of all a distinct lack of surprise.

I mulled on that, "You set that up, didn't you?"

Nick looked carefully, deliberately, and completely unconvincingly innocent, "I'm uh..."

"You and Doctor Armando." I said, then thought about that a bit, "You're helping her the same way I'm helping Mimi and Elle, aren't you?"

Nick fidgeted where he stood, and Mimi looked surprised. "Um. Sort of, I guess." Nick said.

I thought about that.

"It's good to know," I said, "That I'm not the only one trying to run herd on these guys." I smiled for Mimi.

Nick shrugged, but I could sense he was pleased, and his ears pinked a bit, "Heather... She doesn't have any self-control, she thinks life is all one big game. She thinks that she'll get out of Alchemilla and go back to the Wards like nothing's happened. But the doctors decide when you leave, and even if you do leave, she might get sent to-to the Mississippi Crater. Or something. I dunno."

Mimi shifted a little, "Would that be so bad?" She asked softly, "I just want to get out some day. I might even get to use my power in Mississippi..."

Nick sighed, "Heroes die in Mississippi, you know? A lot of them. The attrition rate for new arrivals isn't as bad as fighting Endbringers, but it's high. It's not the only place, there's Gary, Indianna... and Gallup. Those are war zones. Capes that refuse to cooperate, that aren't team players, they get sent there. And they leave to come to places like this when they're all used up and burnt out. I look at them and my power... I just see their hopelessness."

"But, but Heather doesn't even think about any of that." He sighed, "She... She just doesn't care."

"Care..." Elle said.

All of us turned to look at her, surprised.

Elle stared vacantly across the table. She felt... pensive. She was a lot more aware then she looked. She was sad, sympathetic? She understood, or wanted to understand.

"Elle's trying to comfort you." I said at last, turning to Nick.

He looked taken aback and was at a loss for words. Mimi was speechless.

"Thanks, Elle." He said at length.

Nick sat silently stewing after that, the emotions I felt off of him were all muted variations of frustrated and desperate. I thought about what he was doing, enlisting me to make sure another of his crazy friends actually took their pills and obeyed the rules. That... That was actually pretty funny. Nick, well, he was probably the most grounded of any of us, but he was always thinking so pessimistically.

Did he really think Heather would end up sent to the Mississippi Crater?

Heather came back to us in a foul mood, growling and muttering to herself, along with a very stern Doctor Armando. She also had that characteristic pinched expression that I associated with her after she took her meds. I could sense nausea off her too- and that same odd dizzying confusion I had come to associate with trying to read other patients' brains... Brain chemistry? Was that what it was? It was confusing... sensing it made my head hurt.

Doctor Armando was talking, "-ing worse. You know better Glassboom."

"Are you my mom?" Heather groused, crossing her arms back and glaring up at him from where she was sitting.

"Yes, it's my job to mother you." Doctor Armando said, unmoved. He raised his eyebrows as if daring Heather to keep arguing, and Heather's retorts died on her lips with a sputter.

Doctor Armando was not like Doctor Selmy or Doctor Yamada, I couldn't see them dealing with Heather the way he did. Bur Armando's no-nonsense approach seemed to be working for her, sometimes at least.

Heather plopped down at the table, muttering; and with a last meaningful look, Doctor Armando turned and left us once more.

"Fucking, musclebound PHD gorilla."

Nick looked reproachful, "Heather, do you want to go write graffiti on the walls and steal sodas like Lizard Prince? Look where it got him!"

"Don't compare me to the goddamn Lizard!" Heather replied.

"Lizard!" Elle added in the same tone.

Once more there was a brief incredulous pause.

Slowly, Heather smiled.

"Heh. I like you."

I turned and stared at Elle. She was... Gleeful. She was doing it on purpose and it just blew my mind. Mimi was dumbstruck, eyebrows making a bid for her hairline and mouth hanging slack. Was... Elle teasing us? I stifled a laugh, it had to be the funniest thing I'd seen in months.

A gentle chime sounded overhead-

"Attention, Lunch is now being served in Cafeteria B. Today we have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, or chicken nuggets and green beans."

"Heh. We'll talk later," Heather said, popping to her feet. "Let's get some lunch."

"Lunch!" Elle paused for a moment, then she looked right at me. "Hi..."

"Hello, Elle." I replied, bemused. I was the only one who got what she was doing, it was like sharing a secret... Her face was blank, but I could feel a smile underneath...

Across the room, Heather called, "Labyrinth! Come on!"

I glanced at Heather as she walked to the line forming to get food, then at the still mildly stunned Mimi, and a frustrated Nick. "Come on guys."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Heather was surprisingly patient with Elle, I hadn't expected it, but she was.

Elle wasn't very responsive today, and at first I'd worried that Heather would take that as some kind of challenge- or game. Heather could be very cruel when she was bored. Maybe it was because Elle had been at Alchemilla as long as she had, because she had a mystique, and maybe that would pass eventually. Heather didn't have a lot of staying power, but I was grateful for it while it lasted.

After lunch we sat down in the sunroom. Nick, Elle, and Heather were on the couches picking out a movie. Mimi and I were sitting at the back wall watching. Mimi perched on the edge of the cushions like she was afraid they'd bite her, hugging her knees to herself.

The couches were new, since the previous ones had been smashed. Except for that one old easy chair in the corner of the room that Blake was snoozing on. I could feel his attention drifting between the group on the couch and me; looked like he was back to pretending to nap again.

Mimi insisted on something not too violent, an older adventure movie with an ancient temple in a jungle, and an explorer with a whip and wide-brimmed hat. I didn't pay close attention. It was much more interesting to let my power drift over the people watching. Mimi was torn between uncertainty, fretful nervousness, and joy. She liked being out of medium security, liked being part of a group. It was humbling to feel how much joy that small, simple thing gave her. Elle drifted in and out. It might have been my imagination, but I thought she paid more attention during the temple sequence with the booby traps.

I was distracted when Mimi nudged me, pointed. Blake had one eye open. When he saw me watching, his mouth split into a toothy grin and he gave me a lazy wave.

"Hey." I said.

Blake's smile only widened as I walked over, my sense of him was coy, amused, languid, and a lot more intelligent than I would have ever guessed. Even speaking to him before didn't do justice to what I picked up off him now.

"Little birdy told me you got yourself a couple of lost souls to guide." he said.

I frowned, "Who told you?"

"You let two patients out of medium security you gotta let me know, straight from the top." He shrugged, glancing lazily at Mimi. Mimi seesawed between anger and resignation before stabilizing.

I narrowed my eyes, I could sense the honesty from him, but also a touch of deception. That was mostly the truth, but he also had another source? I filed that away for later, but it didn't fool Blake, "Alchemilla is an awfully small place once you've been here a couple years. If you stick around that long, you'll figure it out." He said, "In the meantime, I got a couple words of warning for you."

He glanced at Mimi.

"You know what happened with Burnscar?"

Mimi flinched. I blinked, glancing between the two of them, "What about her?"

"She and Labyrinth were kinda doing the same thing, once upon a time. One of the doctors paired them together after Burnscar hurt a therapist and some security. Burnt up some rooms. Almost killed a couple people." He said, "They wanted to leverage her emotionally, wanted to try and get her invested in another patient."

"I-I met Labyrinth when I got here." Mimi protested.

"Yeah. You did, that's what gave them the idea." Blake said, eyes hooded, "Just letting you know I have my eye on you."

Mimi's eyes dropped to her feet. "If I mess up again, burn some more people... Am I going to the Birdcage? Do you know?" she whispered.

Blake didn't answer immediately, "I don't know. I haven't heard anything about you being caged. And, if it makes you feel any better, the shrinks know you're trying to cooperate."

"...How often do patients get sent to the Birdcage?" I asked.

"Often enough." Blake said, "Lizard Prince and Elephant aren't the first. Won't be the last." he added with finality.

Mimi remained staring at the floor.

Blake cleared his throat awkwardly, "Good kid like you has a chance. You got friends looking out for you, and that counts for something. A lot of something." Blake leaned back, "I had guys I depended on, up in Jersey. Still owe a couple of them. Even in a bad place, if you have people, you have something worth having. You know?" He gave Mimi a smile.

"You'll make it. I know them when I see them. You won't let this place wear you down."

Mimi straightened a little at that. Even so, something unsettling churned in the pit of my stomach. I had never connected the Birdcage to one of my friends. To hear Mimi was afraid of being sent there shook my own confidence. I turned to back to the movie, but didn't watch it.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

My somber mood continued after the movie, as we wandered over to the patient rooms. Elle walked with one hand fisted in my sleeve. Half my attention was on Mimi with Nick and Heather, as all three were walking a little ahead. Heather was pestering Mimi about her life prior to Alchemilla. Mimi... Mimi felt slightly overwhelmed, she was very low spirited following Blake's grim assessment. I could feel her guilt simmering, distress rising and falling and kept in check constantly.

I looked up, blinking away morose thoughts to find myself in familiar territory, "...Hey, this is my room." I said.

Heather glanced back, she was standing by an open door, "Yeah? Mine is across the hall."

"You live right across the hall?"

Heather turned and looked at me, "Yeah, you didn't know?" she replied, "I woulda thought you'd have noticed."

I stared at her. Well, now I knew she'd been avoiding me. I wasn't sure how I'd overlooked her room being so close to mine, though. I knew my power responded to my intent, but how had I overlooked her? True, I wasn't as close to her as my other friends, but still...

Elle tugged at my sleeve, eyes fixed on my door. 108.

"You want to see my room?" I asked.

She looked at me, and I felt... assent. Sure. I opened my door with a shrug.

I imagined Elle was underwhelmed. I was underwhelmed, and it was my room. Well, I guess it still didn't really feel like it was mine. My room was at home in Brockton, it had a comfortable bed with Hero sheets and an Alexandria duvet, and bookshelves with lots of books... I needed to ask for more books...

Elle walked forward and sat down on my bed. After a moment, I sat beside her.

"Well, this is my room. I don't have much. It's not interesting." I trailed off, "What's it like down in medium security? I guess I never really thought about that..."

I looked at Elle. There was a sense of... sarcasm? Irony? Hmm. Elle's focus was on me, directly; and her intent was directed, like communicated speech. Was... was Elle snarking at me?

Heather poked her head in. "Oh, hey. Sweet!" she brightened and grabbed the soda on my table. That was the dented can of soda I'd picked up after Lizard Prince dropped them all over the place. I hadn't touched it since because I could still sense the pent-up pressure from its shaking. Heather popped the tab before I could warn her.

The soda fountained in a massive, carbonated jet, spraying all down her face and front. When the fountain finally subsided Heather was left sputtering. Most of the soda was on her, or on the floor.

"Taylor! The fuck?"

"Fuck." Elle enunciated carefully.

I tried to not laugh, I really did. Nick hid his smile behind his hand. "I would have warned you if you'd asked." I offered Heather my towel for her face, I could sense subtle undercurrents of amusement from her too.

Mimi fidgeted uncomfortably by the door, I got the impression that she wanted to smile and chuckle along with Nick and I, but was worried it'd be rude. She really didn't want to be rude. Her emotions swung back and forth rapidly, but she was still in control.

"Thanks for showing us around," she said, awkwardly looking away.

"Don't worry about it." I said.

"Uh, yeah." Nick added, "No problem. We're friends here, right? It's what friends do."

Elle shifted a little beside me, I sensed a complicated mingling of... a little pride, and curiosity. But it was contrasted with embarrassment or shame? I puzzled on that, "I think Elle's saying the same thing."

Mimi's eyes watered a bit, she nodded without saying a word and her emotions were all over the place.

"T-thanks guys."

I stood up, frowning at what I sensed from her. Mimi was fighting a battle with her power, I could feel the peaks and lows, building up and then crashing. She was rallying a supreme effort to keep her moods in check. "Hey, Mimi... You all right?"

"Y-yeah." Mimi lifted her head and gave me a weak smile.

"Take deep breaths," I stood up and walked to her, putting my hand on her shoulder. I made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Heather whenever she was with Mimi. Where Heather was more settled as the day progressed, I'd definitely noticed Mimi was more stressed, more tense.

I remembered Quilt comforting Inkling, and reached out to rub her back, "Breathe, Mimi."

Mimi closed her eyes and breathed deep and even. It helped, some, but I could feel her power in there bucking under her control. After a moment she spoke up, "Thanks, Taylor." She said.

"Mimi," I said, "That was all you."

She looked up at me, then at the room. Everyone was looking at us, Heather, Nick, even Elle. Mimi looked back at me again, "I don't want to go to the Birdcage, but it's so hard." she whispered, "I just want it to stop and go away."

I thought about Lizard Prince, and Inkling bawling her eyes out; again, about Quilt as she tried to hold her friends together, and... I think I understood Quilt just a little bit.

I could feel how much effort Mimi put into that struggle, I could feel her fear, of herself, of going to the Birdcage. Mimi had been here too long, she needed to make some progress, get her feet under her, get out. This place wasn't any good for her. I could also feel Nick's bleak depression, general disinterest that he beat back. Heather's unconstrained overabundance of energy and her nausea, her illness and the medications that made her head hurt. Elle's frustrated desire to be part of the world, to talk to us, be part of us too.

"Mimi, you aren't going to the Birdcage." I said. Mimi looked at me a moment, and then looked away. "I promise."

Maybe she'd heard that before, but I tried to inject the resolve that statement warranted. I would make that happen. It's what a hero would do, what the hero I wanted to be would do, and it was what they needed. These were friends of mine, and they needed my help.

Mimi rubbed her eyes and tried to smile, but it was wasted on her slippers, "Promise?"

"Yeah, here." I raised my hand. I grabbed Mimi's hand and lifted it to my other, and linked our pinkies. Just like Emma had shown me.

"Haven't made a pinkie promise with anyone but Emma," I said, feeling a little shy, but Mimi needed this, "You're getting out of here, and not going to the Birdcage. All right?"

"Alright." Mimi said, looking uncomfortable, bashful.

I turned to look at the others. Everyone's eyes were on me. "We are all getting out, we can do this." I said, "but we are going to need to work together."

All of them were looking at me, all of them, I could feel their attention and their emotions. Rapt, focused and receptive; for the first time I thought maybe I was feeling what Doctor Yamada might feel, what it was like to counsel patients.

"Heather, Nick, you too." I held out my hands.

Pinkie swears all around. Nick was a little bemused, a little awed, and very shy but pleased all the same. Heather went along with it just because, but even in that, I could detect more. A bit of camaraderie, a bit of adventurous spirit...

I blinked away the impression and let go of their hands, "You too, Elle."

Elle watched me as I knelt down in front of her on my bed, blankly staring at me, and didn't move as I offered her my pinkie.

"Come on, Elle." Nick said.

"Yeah, Elle, you can do it!" Heather cheered.

Slowly, Elle raised one fist. And little by little, her pinky extended. I hooked it in my own.

"There. Emma said that made us best friends, and that includes you guys too." I said, "So we're in this together, all of us, to get better and get out of here. All right?"

"Y... Yes." Elle said.

All of us.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Mimi was definitely wrung out by the emotional roller coaster and I didn't want to push her. Not on her first day. Elle was starting to look tired too. Best to end the day on a high note and have them eager to come back tomorrow. They checked in at the floor nursing station not long after. We followed them as far as the last checkpoint, before the elevators.

Mimi gave me a small wave, smiling wanly. They wouldn't be staying up here overnight, not yet. Heather and Nick stayed with me and helped me show them off.

"It was fun to meet them." Nick said, looking meaningfully at Heather.

She grumbled a little, but it had been more interesting than just going about a regular day I guess, she felt a lot more settled and mellow than she had that morning.

"They were all right, weren't they?" I asked. Heather's emotions were erratic, but I was certain she had enjoyed having Mimi and Elle join us. I was sure of that much, so why was I sensing such contradictory emotions from her?

"Yeah, sure..." Heather said.

She was being honest, but I could sense she didn't like admitting it. She'd been dissapointed. She didn't like how mundane it had been, wanted something more interesting. More exciting. I could also get a sense of... An echo? In her power?

What was that?

In the safety of my own mind, I sighed, "Give them some time." I said out loud, "You'll like them."

I'd need Heather and Nick too. Mimi had been here for years, and all her efforts hadn't gotten her released. Her power was difficult for her to control. And Elle, I simply couldn't see getting out on her own.

I might be able to cheat, using my power. I could communicate with her, through her fugues. In spite of her power. I could work with her in ways that her therapists never could... I needed to talk to Doctor Yamada or Doctor Selmy and tell them. I'd never thought of any of this! There was so much I needed to do!

I told myself this would work, I could do this.

All of them could do this, I was sure of it.


	21. Altrical 3-6

{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

That night as I locked my door for the night and started thinking about what to fill the time with, it hit me that I hadn't talked to Sveta in a while. After all the chaos last week I... I'd forgotten about her.

Sveta had been the catalyst behind my entire adventure in Alchemilla's basement. I had set out to find Labyrinth, to find a way to shut down her world because I had been worried about Sveta. Worried about her getting out and what would happen if she did.

But I haden't heard anything from her since then. In the confusion and disorientation of the infirmery, and of healing, and then following Mom and Emma visiting... And then in experimenting with my power...

I'd forgotten all about her.

As I booted up Alchemilla's chat network a sick knot of worry twisted in my stomach. I felt terrible.

Sveta didn't pick up right away, which was a bad sign itself. Sveta always picked up quickly. It was almost a full minute before the connection was picked up and a somewhat bleary-eyed Sveta filled the chat window, I might have actually woke her up. She was a little too close to the camera, but I still breathed a sigh of relief.

"Taylor!" she said, "You're alright!"

She sounded almost tearful, and I immediately felt worse.

"It's good to see you Sveta." I said, and gave her a smile.

Sveta was almost tearful, "I heard you were hurt, but nobody could tell me anything!"

I leaned back, breathing a long sigh, and I gathered my thoughts. "I'm fine, I did get hurt for a bit, but I'm up and about now!" I said, "I got healed."

"You got hurt?" Sveta looked horrified, "H-how were you hurt?"

How much to tell? I thought about how Mom and Emma had reacted, "I... got burned, and cut my arm badly."

I could feel her emotions, spikeing, her arms transformed into eight tentacles. For a moment, they lashed out all around her, and Sveta's body dissolved into its component threads. I caught a glimpse of what was both her bed and her chair- a pillar covered in padding that extended both above and below the range of the chat camera. Stubby branches extended from it at regular intervals, like a tiered scratching post for the largest housecat ever. There was a glimpse of Sveta's painting beyond it- I could barly see a wash of blue and greens...

More immediately, Sveta writhed, her body raced around the padded pole, occasionally reforming a limb, or gathering in a mass as Sveta tried to regain control. This was a bad day.

"Stop! No, no, no, no-"

Sveta's voice faded in and out as she moved around the post.

"In, out. Relax, flex, relax, flex..."

I wanted to say something, help calm her down, but Doctor Yamada had told me that sometimes it just fed the panic cycle. Sveta's power... Distantly, I could feel it! I could feel Sveta's power! Not very well, not viewing it through the chat camera. Nothing like Heather or Mimi or Elle; but I could feel a glimmer of it, so very, very faint. That was new.

It... It almost felt like Solace's power. That same frantic energy...

Sveta stopped moving as frantically, and settled in gripping the post, which deformed as Sveta's tendrils twisted in place, wringing it.

"In. Out. In. Out." Sveta said, "Relax, relax, relax."

Sveta's face appeared in the chat window once more. She was even paler than when we'd started, the 'c' on her cheek stood out in black against her skin. She settled, but still looked downcast.

"Was it scary?" Sveta asked.

"I- yes, it was... Pretty chaotic. Were you alright?" I asked.

"Yes." Sveta's face fell even further, "It... It was pretty." she whispered.

Sveta had gotten out? I remembered the valley, the ruined town. The sky. What was that like for her? What had she seen? Had she seen the valley, the ruins? I knew that her opportunities to move about Alchemilla, let alone the outside, were very limited. What had seeing it like that been like, for her?

"...It reminded me of my dreams." Sveta said quietly, "It was... It was so beautiful... There was a city, and a lake! I could hear birds! I felt the wind..."

She sounded so wistful.

"You'll be out there some day." I said.

"Oh! Oh, no I-I..." Sveta stammered, "Maybe... I hope maybe one day."

Sveta's body spasmed, threads and tendrils writhing. Then they snapped out, out of my line of sight, returning with a sketchbook.

"I did some drawings."

She held up the sketchbook, the video quality wasn't great, but the sketch- of the crater from a perspective overlooking the ruins at the bottom, a dilapidated mill beside a river, crumbling walls and narrow streets, was clearly visible. I was impressed, I could actually see the square I had entered the town through.

"They look really good!" I said, honestly. Sveta turned the pages, I saw flowers and leaves. A cathedral dome that had fallen in on itself like a cracked egg. There were other things, some I had seen before. Architecture, sea life, shells, fish; drawings of a shoreline bordered by buildings, long wooden piers and boats with sails in the water.

"It's beautiful!" I said.

Sveta's notebook lowered out of view and she looked away.

"...I dream about it, sometimes." Sveta said, "Being human. It's like I'm seeing another girl's life. It's so beautiful, so peaceful. Even if I don't remember..."

She stared into the distance, her eyes were empty... Empty the same way Mimi's sometimes looked.

"Doctor Yamada doesn't like it when I think about it too much. It makes it harder to concentrate, to control my power. Being emotional makes it harder."

"I met some others." I said, "Other capes with mutations."

"What were they like?"

My answer was not immediate, I chose my words with care. "I liked some of them," I said. That was true enough.

Frog was eerie but I had not felt anything but goodwill and melancholy from him. The prospect of learning sign language and speaking with him interested me. Prowler made me nervous, but he was not like many of the patients, he was angry, not erratic... Quilt had impressed me, and Inkling reminded me of Heather, who I liked well enough. If I could ever talk to her without her trying to punch me in the face, we might have a real friendship happen. Mantellum and Oilbloom...

Sveta listened as I described them; and then she surprised me when she knew all their names.

"I looked up most of them a long time ago." She said, "I even contacted some. Monster capes know each other...we seek each other out."

"Why?"

"Because of the memories." Sveta said, "In the dreams. I wanted to know if anyone else had them. Each one, I hoped..."

Hoped they would remember?

"... Why were they so upset?" Sveta asked, changing the subject. "The others, Prowler and Inkling?"

"One of the other patients got sent to the Birdcage, one of their friends. He wasn't... he wasn't nice, but I didn't know him well, I guess."

Sveta shied away, the tendrils encircling the padded pole shifted their grips, tightening and twisting.

"... I hope things look up for them," Sveta said.

"Yeah, me too..." I said.

"Who... Who was the patient?" Sveta asked, "...The one who went to the Birdcage."

"His name was Lizard Prince." I said.

"Was he like me?"

"Like you?" I echoed.

"A bad guy."

"You aren't a 'bad guy'."

"But he went to the Birdcage."

"I don't think you're a bad person Sveta." I replied insistently.

She reminded me of Mimi, with that same sense of defeat. I didn't like seeing that in anyone I wanted to call a friend.

"I've killed people." Sveta said, "I'm a monster."

"You aren't a monster."

"Did he kill people?"

"Who?"

"Lizard Prince."

I thought a moment, "I don't know. He was... I think he was a thief."

"I've killed over a hundred people." She said, hollowly.

We sat in silence for several seconds. I didn't know what to tell her- but it would not, could not be that she was a monster. But a death toll in triple digits...

You didn't see that kind of death toll associated with capes often. Usually only an Endbringer inspired that kind of fear. But I'd heard of a few. Really scary names that I knew even before I became a permanent insomniac with a need to know. Doctor Bonesaw. Futsunushi. Profaner. String Theory. The Birdcage held a few of those, which didn't bode well for Lizard Prince.

There were many villains that had sunk to depths I could hardly fathom, and many mundane people as well. You didn't need powers to become a monster.

But telling her she wasn't so bad because those were so much worse was not the answer. I thought about Doctor Selmy, and his story about Feral. Feral had made it, had triumphed, but Sveta's problems were very different. Feral's power had been useful and controllable, even if her attempts to use it to heal had backfired. Doctor Selmy had been in her corner, surely others had helped her as well. And she'd made it, become a hero...

Maybe that was the biggest problem, Sveta was really isolated- her power made it almost impossible for her to do something as mundane as talk face to face with someone. I remembered those first few days, what it had been like, that horrible loneliness. I had hurt people, killed someone. What was it like for Sveta, trapped in that room alone? Alone except for the ghosts, as I had been?

"Sveta, do you think... Maybe I could stop by?" I asked.

"You want to?"

"Of course!"

Sveta looked uncertain, but I could tell she very, very much would have liked that.

"Doctor Yamada suggested it, it's just been so hectic..." I paused, the idea occurring, Sveta and Mimi both had similar problems, maybe having someone to talk to- someone who understood them and what it was like, that would help? I'd need to ask Doctor Yamada. "Actually, would you like me to bring some friends?"

"Friends?"

"Yeah, I'm helping a couple patients. It's a new program. I think they'd really like to meet you."

Sveta's tendrils spasmed, and her eyes darted to the side, seeking escape. She probably didn't get many visitors. "Meet me? Talk? To me?"

"I think they might. Would you like me to ask?"

Sveta looked panicked- the tendrils around her head stood out, seeking something to grasp. A moment later, she rallied her control and they subsided.

"Y-y-y-you would do that?" She stuttered, looking unsure, scared, and extreamely nervous. Her eyes darted away and down, looking away.

"I'm sure they'd like to." I said, "You could talk to us through the glass."

Sveta stared at me, "M-maybe. Maybe." she hedged.

"Just think about it, all right? I'll ask them, ok?"

Sveta hesitated, but eventually nodded, "Yes, ok..."

It was a start. Sveta needed it at least as much as any of my friends, I wondered what Mimi would make of her.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Sveta's face as she struggled for control haunted me long after she signed off. It was a bad night for her, she was emotional and distracted and her power kept acting up whenever her focus wavered. I promised I'd talk to her again at a better time, but I think she was relived when I finally signed out.

The silence after I closed the chat window made me antsy, I wanted to be doing something.

I worked on a paper for a half hour, I opened the desktop calendar and checked my scheduale for tomorrow- the morning was cleared out, I'd be meeting Mimi and Elle before breakfast. I'd have group therapy in the evening.

There was an email from Emma.

 _Hey, Taylor_

 _It was really cool to see you with a mask and everything. Not really liking highschool without you. Sorry about being down when we came by. You're a dork, but you were fun to be a dork with._

 _I could do with regular old dork stuff right now. Dad's been talking about pulling me out of school. The gangs are fighting in the streets all the time now._

 _The BBB and the Protectorate are trying to keep a handle on it. The Marche and the Fae are winning, I think. Ingenue fought off Lung and Butcher, which was huge. I mean, can you imagine? It's freaking Lung and Butcher, that's really scary, especially since she doesn't really have a flashy power._

 _Butcher's really tall and she has so many powers, and Lung is huge even without his power pumping him up. Even Marquis is more dangerous looking than her._

 _(Remember how you used to have a crush on him? I do!)_

I choked, laughing and covering my face in my hands. Oh, Emma. She went on, rambling in a familiar cheery vein, talking about everything and nothing.

It was soothing, heartening to read it and let myself get lost in simpler problems, far away from the worries and concerns of Alchemilla. It was strange to think about. School and things happening in Brockton Bay, a movie coming out and if she should try to ask a boy out to it. Those were things I would have cared about a year ago- or, no, that was not the right way to put it. They still mattered. But I had a fresh perspective, I saw them differently now; at once smaller, and yet dearer.

 _Mister Gladly (He's my homeroom teacher) says we're going to have villain drills now. In case there's a fight at school. Wish you were here. I'd feel a lot safer knowing my BFF has my back._

 _I can't wait until you get back, Taylor. Good luck._

My smile faded gradually, as I considered tomorrow, and everything I needed to do. I would get out.

Morning saw me at the exercise room the moment curfew lifted, working on the treadmills. I was concentrating on incremental improvements, both of my stamina, and of my power's ability to sense and interpret information from my body. My breathing and heartbeat, and the components of motion. The muscles in my legs, my torso, my arms...

I needed to look up anatomy, ask for textbooks... I was not entirely certain how effective reading up on it would be, but it would give me some perspective, help me put names to the individual muscles, tendons, and bones I was starting to pick out from the noise.

I'd never realized how much was happening in my body at any given time. Blood was pumped. Lungs inhaled and expanded, pulling in air. Nerves fired off synapses with every movement. Everything was connected in complex interaction of chemistry on a scale I could only just sense, but it was getting stronger.

I thought about ways to help Mimi and Elle. Things to try, and questions to ask when I talked to the doctors.

What programs where there, were there precedents for Mimi's case? For Elle's ? I'd wondered what my power could do, to help them. I could communicate with Elle, understand her even when she was unresponsive in a fugue. I could feel when Mimi's powers were acting up. I could help them.

... I needed to ask for more books... Needed to ask about independent capes... My list kept getting longer- no, no, focus.

I rested my forehead on my arms, closing my eyes and just feeling with my power. Alchemilla spread around me, a network of rooms and halls, so small. And in it, the people I knew.

Most were still in their rooms, but now there was a blank spot, a void centered around one room, Mantellum. My power could not touch it, a place where it was removed, taken out. Both fasinateing and intimidateing.

The room I had met with the doctors yesterday, with Mimi and Elle. There were points there- two people. Not Doctor Yamada- two others I was familiar with, but not as bright. Probably Werneck and Fox. I checked the clock on the wall- I was going to meet with them in a half hour. Probably time to get ready.

I headed to the showers. I changed. I grabbed one of my notebooks, and began writing. I directed a sliver of attention to my power, trying to bend it to the clock, to keeping time. I wasn't sure if I was making any progress when I checked and found I was six minutes from my appointment, and I stood up from my desk, tucking my notebook under one arm and started walking.

I followed the hall back into admin, back to the little leftover meeting room. As I had suspected, Werneck and Fox looked up in surprise when I opened the door.

"Ah, Auspice, you're early," Werneck said, arching an eyebrow, "Why don't you have a seat?"

I pulled out one of the chairs opposite the doctors and scooted in, trying to get a feel for the mood.

"Is Doctor Yamada coming in?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not today. There was an emergency involving another patient."

Oh. I felt mildly disappointed.

"Are you feeling all right?" Doctor Fox asked.

"Sure." I did feel all right, a bit nervous maybe, but not really apprehensive of working with Mimi and Elle. Maybe a bit nervous because I was being assessed, I could feel it. The attention directed at me from the table was sharp and focused.

"How would you say yesterday with Burnscar and Labyrinth went?" Doctor Fox asked, adjusting his glasses absently. His glasses slid back down his nose almost immediately, and he took them off with a tiny frown.

"It went really well."

"We have time. Why don't you tell us about it?"

I tried to be as through as I could, and followed the day. Mimi and Elle and everything that had happened with Nick and Heather. It wasn't much, but, interestingly, I got the impression they were assessing my performance more than Mimi or Elle. Which made sense, I guess, for Elle, since nothing had transformed, but it still puzzled me.

"Well," Doctor Fox said, after I finished, "It sounds like good news!"

It sounded like a question, and more like he was asking Werneck then directing it to me. I glanced at Werneck, as he consulted a loose sheaf of papers on a clipboard. I guessed it was his notes.

"Security did not report any disturbances," Doctor Werneck said, "You did very well, Auspice."

Well, that felt like a very low bar to meet. I frowned faintly, "Okay..."

I laid my notebook on the table, "I've been doing some thinking, and looking stuff up. Elle has a lot of trouble communicating, but my power works very well on her, yesterday I could tell when she was joking around with Heather. She's in there, she just can't talk sometimes."

Doctor Fox sat up straight, and Werneck actually looked up.

"You can communicate with Labyrinth when she is in a fugue?" Werneck said, peering at me with a great deal of consideration, and a spike of interest, "Or, perceive her, then?"

"More along the lines of preceiving. I think. When we were lost in the basements I held her hand for a while, to help her walk. I think I've probably had more continuous contact with her than anyone else."

"And that lends itself to your perception's acuity." Werneck said, "Your power is broader and more potent with prolonged contact."

"Yes."

Doctor Werneck made a considering sound in his throat, and wrote on the clipboard. "In-processing missed a lot, it seems. I'm gong to make a note, we might need to put you through a review." He glanced at the page in his hands.

There was a pause, just enough of one that it felt awkward. Doctor Fox leaned forward, clearing his throat, "Auspice, would you be interested in another review? A couple tests?"

I glanced between Doctor Werneck and Doctor Fox, "Um, yes? I think? What would it I be doing?"

"Just touch base, hopefully catch any new developments, and possibly discover any additional nuances to your power." Doctor Werneck added, he picked up a pen and made a note on his clipboard.

"Oh." I said, and then an idea occurred to me, tentative plans falling into place, "Um... When is it? Would, uh, Burnscar or Labyrinth be able to try as well?"

Werneck looked up, "Come again?"

"Would Mimi or Elle be able to do it too?" I repeated, "It might be a good opportunity to work with them, and if it goes well it would be a great step in the right direction."

All three of them looked surprised, but Werneck's surprise faded into amusement, "It sounds like you are taking this sponsor program very seriously."

There was an odd note in his voice that... grated on me. "Yes, I am taking it very seriously."

"Hm." Doctor Werneck glanced down at his clipboard again, "Considering recent events, maybe it would be prudent to touch base with the two of them as well. Labyrinth's flair-up was an aberration from previous models, and Burnscar is certainly due an Interjection."

Doctor Fox glanced at him sharply. "Cassio, is that appropriate?" he said, unstated horror and scandal sharp in my perception. Doctor Werneck appeared unconcerned and I thought I detected a hint of smug dissmissal.

"It isn't as if she won't hear about it soon enough," Doctor Werneck replied, and raised an eyebrow, "Did you think she would not hear from a nurse or an orderly?"

I glanced between them, Doctor Fox was his junior, and Doctor Werneck dominated their dynamic. He wouldn't object strongly enough to dissuade Doctor Werneck if he decided to say something, "... An 'Interjection'?"

Doctor Werneck smiled thinly for my benefit, "The technical term is an Agent Interjection, it is related to parahuman inability to remain on standby. You see, parahumans without a regular outlet, without a minimum threshold of stimulus, activity, and use of their powers become prone to outbursts. Bouts of paranoia. Delusions, dissociation... Violence. It is commonly believed that it is related to the source of their powers prompting their use with increasing insistence." He rapped his pen on the clipboard, "Burnscar is a prime example. Burnscar displays many of the symptoms of an imminent Agent Interjection."

I frowned, but Doctor Werneck was... He was being helpful. There was no malice from him, only a pragmatic, frank honesty. It was strange, but Doctor Werneck did not mean any offense by it, quite the opposite.

"What about ride-alongs?" I said.

Doctor Werneck leaned back, again surprised, but less inclined to react by this point. "Ride alongs?"

"Yes. Ride-alongs. Doctor Selmy mentioned them. Patients with good behaviour going on patrols with Protectorate heroes, charity events, disaster relief. Small-exposure hero work."

"You're interested in going on one."

Yes, but that wasn't the point I was looking to make, "Mimi- Burnscar could do it. Maybe Labyrinth too." I said, "I want to make Going on one their goal. Their long-term goal."

"Given the chronic nature of her condition, it is unlikely that Burnscar will ever leave Alchemilla jurisdiction." Doctor Werneck said, frankly.

"Cassio!" Doctor Fox said sharply.

I blinked , the memory of Lizard Prince, smarmy and self-satisfied, smiling and assured, like he wasn't going to the Birdcage. "The ones that don't get better. Actual crazies. They aren't considered for release. Too unstable."

It cut me so cleanly that I felt the blood leave my face in a cool rush, "What?"

Werneck's face was a dispassionate mask. "Auspice, you have to understand, Burnscar has killed people before she came here. She has injured multiple staff and some other patients. She has a highly invasive power that drives her to use it in an uncontrolled fashion, one which has a lot of potential for destruction and loss of life."

"And... And so you're giving up on her?" I said, faintly.

Doctor Fox looked uncomfortable, but Doctor Werneck looked at me with an expression I couldn't name. His face was curiously immobile, but maybe it was, "No. Of course not. But, you have to understand, I've worked here for years Auspice. I have learned not to hope for too much."

Mimi was... She didn't want to be a villain, she wasn't evil. Mostly, she just wanted her life back. I knew how she struggled, and hated how her power ruled her life. I was starting to get angry.

"You... You're saying there is no chance of release, no treatment? No hope of going into the Protectorate? Mimi could be a great hero. Nothing?"

Doctot Fox interrupted, "That is not what we mean, Auspice, but... you might want to start somewhere much smaller."

My pulse was pounding in my ears. I was breathing a little hard, and I haden't realized it. I closed my eyes and slowed my breathing, deep breath in, deep breath out. Calm. Calm.

Yes, a smaller goal, set a smaller goal and work towards it. One step at a time. But the anger was still there.

There was a sound, the door opening, and my focus widened. My power had narrowed to the doctors sitting across from me, and now I drew it back and out, my world expanded. Mimi and Elle were on the other side of that door, as it swung open, I could see them and I had a moment to school my face. It took herculean effort to straighten my shoulders, and smooth my expression into something that looked calm- to try to look a little less like how I felt. It would do no good to show either of them that kind of front.

"Good morning," Doctor Werneck said.

Mimi paused in the threshold, Elle bumping into her back. The orderly behind them glancing over.

"Sorry we're a little late, doctors. Burnscar wanted to do some breathing exercises."

Doctor Fox glanced in my direction, I could feel the flash of attention, but Doctor Werneck was impassive as ever.

"Good to see you, come on in." he said.

I didn't know what to say, what to do. I wasn't going to tell Mimi, or Elle, that they weren't getting out of here. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. It couldn't be that hopeless, there had to be ways.

I realized after a moment that Mimi was staring at me, and maybe I let the silence stretch a hair too long. "Hey," I said, voice carefully light.

She smiled in return, a real smile. For once, I could honestly feel her good mood, I don't think she noticed anything out of the ordinary. "Good morning."

I felt myself relax a fraction.

But my gut kept churning, I felt sick.


	22. Altrical 3-7

{A bird hatched in an undeveloped state, requiring care and feeding by the parents}

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

When we stepped out of the meeting room, I was troubled and trying not to show it. Doctor Werneck had shaken me, and my mind was racing.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" Doctor Fox asked, behind me.

"No, not yet." Mimi said.

"Have you had your meds yet?"

Mimi glanced at him. "No." She made a sour face.

"Well, we can probably get it wired to our dispensary up here." He said. That didn't seem to improve Mimi's disposition much.

"It makes me feel tired, and makes Elle dizzy..." She muttered

I took Elle's other hand and bumped shoulders with Mimi- it brightened her mood a little.

"Come on, let's go." I said.

I'd taken my time considering the right way to go about helping them. But in the end remembered what Mom always said when one of her students complained about a deadline; the simplest way to tackle a large project was to break it up into smaller ones. Small things got done. Big things intimidated you. She gave her students milestones, bite-sized assignments that added up to a larger, more impressive goal; and the best way to assure that each of those smaller steps got done was to assign a deadline for each milestone.

It was familiar, and both grounded me and filled me with confidence. This was something I knew I could do. "We could stop by the exercise room later," I said, "I've been working on using my power on myself whenever I exercise. It gives me a lot, I still don't understand all of it, but it helps, and I understand more every time."

Mimi tried to smile, "At least you're allowed to use your power."

I could feel her mood, dipping a bit.

"I've been thinking about that," I said carefully, "I still need to talk to some of my doctors, but I know there are options. Medium security is really, uh, insular- right?"

My choice of words was intended to broach the topic in a way with less baggage- something I could say that wouldn't prompt an immediately emotional response. Capture her attention and curiosity, derail her moods.

"Insular... Uh." Mimi thought a bit, and when she caught my meaning she frowned darkly, but her irritation and sadness didn't immediately spark into a flair of anger, a victory. "... Yeah."

"Well, now that you're in a lower security wing, you can push for some options that weren't open for you previously." My pitch was practiced, I'd gone over the biggest sticking points, the parts of Alchemilla I knew Mimi hated, that she chaffed under, and considered the angles that I could approach them. How she could approach them, knowing what I did of her and her power.

"Options?" Mimi asked.

"Options." I said, "There's all kinds of stuff you can do. Training and classes. You've got a strong power, you can do a lot with it! To start with, I've been coming up with a list." I said.

We headed back toward the cafeteria but my focus was on Mimi and Elle, getting a feel for their mood. Particularly Mimi. She felt more settled today, but not entirely. She was... Nervous, eager, a little afraid. A bit more.. Confident? Sure of herself? Her power shivered, no violent shifts, but a steady pressure. It was... less pressing, or urgent? Hmm...

We entered the caffeteria, which was still mostly deserted. Like yesterday, breakfast was not for half an hour. We sat at one of the tables.

"All right, here is what I have so far." I said, "Our objective is get you out of Alchemilla. That's an ultimate goal, something big and long term, so let's try something smaller as a step up to that. I've been told that the are Protectorate ride-alongs, that sounds like a good middling objective."

Mimi was resigned. I could feel Elle's attention on me, but her eyes were unfocused, staring ahead at nothing.

"I don't think they'd let me do a ride-along with a Protectorate hero." Mimi said slowly, "They might let you, but not me."

"Because of the control thing?" I said.

"Not just the control thing. I can teleport. They don't want to risk me running. If I escape, it would be difficult to recapture me."

"Oh." I shrugged, "That's fine."

"It's fine?" Mimi asked, incredulous. I could feel her power surging up and down, mood rising and falling in confusion. Dangerously skirting the fine line of control.

"This a long-term goal, Just a stepping stone. It is all right if you can't do it now. That is not the point." I said, "Right now, you're looking to find something even smaller that you can do now, that moves you closer to your next goal."

Mimi nodded slowly, "Okay."

"Doctor Yamada said you've got power review later this week." I said, "It might be a good place to start."

Mimi groaned.

"I guess you've done a few of those?"

"Yeah," She mumbled.

"Well?" I prompted after a moment.

"They... They never go well." Mimi mumbled.

"You've had a few, huh?" I asked thoughtfully.

"Few." Elle said, and gave a jerky nod. To my mild surprise, Elle also smiled faintly. She wasn't... all there. Not entirely. But her eyes moved to track me, to Mimi. It was a bit more responsive, a good sign.

I gathered my thoughts. Across the room, Fusor and Lethe walked through the door and sat down, talking quietly. The rest of the ward was beginning to arrive. Idly, I wondered how long it would take for Heather and Nick to arrive.

"Well, it'd be something we can do. Something small. I'll be right there with you!"

Mimi gave me a shaky smile.

"There are all kinds of workshops and classes, those are good chances to do something low-stakes. Socialize a bit. I don't think you've really had a chance to do something like that much here, not in medium security. There's art classes, group therapy, other stuff... I'm dong correspondence courses, would you like that?"

Mimi made a face, mumbling something under her breath, but Elle definitely reacted- turning to me and widening her eyes. She soared. Her emotions soared and her hands twitched on the table. I reached out and took her hand, trying to feel it out. She was happy, overjoyed, eager. I... did not expect that kind of reaction from her.

"Sounds like Elle likes that idea!" I laughed.

Heather and Nick arrived shortly after.

"Hey."

"Morning Taylor. Mimi, Elle." Nick said. Heather was bleary-eyed and unresponsive, she wasn't really a morning person.

I looked across the cafeteria, watching as it filled for breakfast, and with a startled epiphany, I realized I could name almost everyone at the tables. Lizard Prince's gang had commandeered a table by the back wall. Quilt, Inkling, Frog, Prowler, and the new additions of Oilbloom and Mantellum- I could feel the threshold of his power, like numbness, from across the room. We were situated in the front, near the kitchen line. Fusor and Lethe were the next table over, sitting together. Blake, alone. Copperquick at a table with a girl I didn't recognize. A woman and a man in orange, newly added to the wing, I didn't know their names but the rest were familiar.

The other patients of my ward... my neighbors? I wondered if that was the right way to think about them. I hardly knew most of the patients in my ward, even if my power meant I was more familiar with them than I was with most people I'd known my whole life before gaining powers.

"You're quiet today." Heather said.

"Just thinking..." I said, "How often do the patients get together for activities and stuff."

"... You mean group therapy?" Heather said slowly.

"No, like... other stuff. I'm trying to come up with ideas. I don't know what Mimi or Elle would like to try." I knew there were educational programs, I was getting my GED, and there were some college courses offered. I knew Sveta was pen pals with a Ward, and Doctor Selmy's ride-alongs with Protectorate heroes- even if that wasn't in the cards for now.

"There's a book club." Nick said.

"A book club?" I blinked, "Huh. I'd be interested in that..."

Heather gave me a Look, "How long have you been here, girl? You didn't know there was a book club? Oh, don't get excited, they're boring and never finish anything they read."

Nick offered some suggestions. The art classes I'd already considered. There were also cooking classes, though access to knives and ovens was heavily restricted. That sounded like it had some promise. Some vocational stuff, life skills. Budgeting, self-care, stress management, nutritional choices.

Heather played basketball, but lamented the lack of any kind of competition, and spoke about it at great length. "Sometimes patients shoot some hoops, but it's not a huge deal. There isn't anything formal. I'd like it if there was a yearly tournament or something, but that's not allowed..."

Apparently, patients were not allowed to form teams, because there had been violence in the past over losing, or winning. "...Some of the guys get together, watch the NBA or the World Cup." Heather said, much, much too nonchalantly. She was concealing something, I probed with my power. Something she considered 'fun'? But not something she wanted to talk about... gambling? Or...

Or maybe, just maybe, Lizard Prince had not been the only troublemaker in Alchemilla.

I remembered a girl that stole a beer from her parents' liquor cabinet and brought it to school. Emma had taken a sip and reported that it tasted awful, even as we giggled at her daring.

She'd been suspended, but something told me Heather would consider a minor punishment worth the excitement of doing something not allowed.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Eating breakfast, Heather started waking up properly, and looking for more trouble.

"So we're here now." Heather paused, considering Mimi and Elle, "You guys both get meds, right?"

"I.. Yes." Mimi said.

Heather's emotions spiked, glee and energy, "Hehe, cool." I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Well, we get meds after breakfast." Nick said, I noticed he was also giving Heather an odd look.

Breakfast was toast with eggs and bacon, or oatmeal with fruit. I went for the eggs and bacon, protein would help me build some muscle mass, and I was using the calories. I was worried Elle would need help eating, but she was able to feed herself, slowly, moving her spoon with very deliberate movements. Mimi watched her carefully.

Then we had to stop by the dispensary. Heather groaned and rolled her eyes when Nick reminded her to take her meds. I sensed rebellion, and boredom, but not enough to drive her to something rash. She could still get there, though.

The dispensary counter was manned by a nurse with blonde hair going grey. Compared to medium-sec's dispensary, our own was much smaller and simpler, just a counter with a glass divider over top, and a slot to pass little plastic portion cups under. A few other patients sat against the wall on the chairs. Inkling was there in the waiting area, Quilt with her. Copperquick too. Our group sat down at the end of the row.

Listening to Yamada, medications were kind of an odd point at Alchemilla. She and I had talked about it once. Some parahumans didn't respond to medication, others responded oddly, with diminished or exaggerated effects, or with unexpected side effects; parahumans had some chemical differences in their brains. Apparently, sometimes the effects of medications actually changed over time. Medical treatments were still effective, as a rule, just that they were less effective and less reliable than they might be on a baseline human. There was always an extra element of uncertainty when involving parahumans. She said there were too many variables still not isolated and understood.

I wondered if it was more than that.

My medications were minimal, my power wasn't invasive the way Sveta or Mimi's was. If I still needed to sleep, it might have been different. If I still had nightmares I might get tranquilizers to deal with them, the memory of the hospital, and the alley. As it was, I only got a infrequent and very small dose of tranquilizers in the evening to level me out after the day. And only when one of my doctors and I agreed I needed them. Even that was only until the end of the month. I counted it as a good sign.

Mimi's mood darkened steadily while we waited.

"You don't like your meds?" I asked.

"No." Mimi replied, and closed her mouth in a thin line.

"Do you have to take many?"

"Nothing ever works right. It makes me sick, or makes my power flair up. Or something else." Mimi said, "And it's worse for Elle, because sometimes she can't talk, so she can't tell them if it hurts her or makes her sick, if they don't notice."

"Yeah." Heather nodded, "Meds suck."

"Suck." Elle repeated emphatically, Heather patted her head without looking.

"I hate all of them," Heather said, "It's stupid, making us take that shit."

"Heather, you aren't going to get out of here without cooperating with the doctors." Nick said.

"Says you." Heather shot back.

Inkling was called up, then Copperquick. Patients had to take their meds at the counter, to avoid problems with not taking meds, or giving their meds to someone else. Heather had been very lucky and determined to have dodged it as long as she had. Only the chaos of the past weeks had allowed it.

I hadn't asked what had happened to it, maybe I ought to?

Mimi was called to the counter. Coming back to us, she looked like she'd bitten into a lemon, and the bitter expression prompted a questioning look from me.

"Tastes bad," she mumbled.

Elle was able to walk up to the counter by herself, and took her own medicine from a little plastic cup. Then Heather went up, and then Nick.

There was an hour before scheduled activities each morning, to account for meds and to give patients a chance to acclimate to them. We headed back to the cafeteria. The Lizard Prince gang had set up a board game on one of the tables, and I felt a touch of amusement at the almost surreal sight of Frog and Prowler playing Battleship. Inkling was sitting beside them, her head pillowed on her arms, Quilt was reading a book. Oilbloom was also there, hunched over on the bench and looking miserable, but I hadn't seen her at the dispensary. Mantellum was absent entirely.

Heather had never needed to wait very long for her medications to even out, so I wasn't particularly worried about anything happening, but we needed to kill some time. Maybe they had the right idea? I contemplated my options. Heather was sitting by Elle, braiding her hair, but Mimi had turned around on the bench, elbows on her knees, hunched over.

"Mimi, you feeling okay?" I asked, walking more quickly.

"No." Mimi replied.

I sat down beside her, rubbing her back, and trying to feel out what was wrong. The medicine was making her nauseous, dizzy. Her emotions were actually pretty leveled, but weighted down, towards depression. A quick look at Elle- her eyes were glazed and vacant, a bit of dampness in one corner of her mouth- she was drooling.

Heather started singing.

"You are my drug-child, my only drug-child, you make me happy… when… I- you know, I'm not sure? You do cool things, I guess. That castle thing..." She turned Elle's head so she could meet here eyes, "You know, you're fucking weird? Do you have you any idea how blasted you are right now?"

Mimi buckled, going to her knees. Heather just laughed.

"Are your arms legs, girl?" Heather teased.

Her goading pricked Mimi, and for a moment I was worried that something tragic was about to happen. Mimi's temper flared, flared high, but she was still leveled by her medication. She didn't draw on her power. I felt a moment of gratitude, followed by my own anger with Heather. Did she have any idea how dangerous that was? Or... Was she also suffering some side effects of her own?

I glanced at Nick, who was staring at Heather himself.

"Nick, is this usual?"

"Um, yeah, kind of." I got the sense of smiling from Nick, even though I was more used to him looking vaguely down. He still was, why was I getting the impression of... Oh, right. Antidepressants. That made sense...

Mimi was dizzy, her stomach roiled, she was just generally miserable, and I felt an echo of her discomfort though our connection. There were hints of the medication- its nature and the changes it worked on her body, it was something that effected the mind and muscles, prompting chemical changes in the nervous system.

I think the desired effect was to stabilize her condition, but her power was attempting to produce the same oscillation in her moods. So while her medication lasted she was fine, but when it wore off, she might be even more dangerous. There were also other symptoms I hadn't immediately been aware of. Tremors. Something to do with her metabolism and digestion. No wonder she felt awful. I was starting to get dizzy- her symptoms, translated through my power, and I pulled back. It was getting stronger.

"Ugh. Yeah, that feels pretty awful."

"Hmm... Usually does." Nick said, still smiling and a little absent.

"You're a-a dick. B-bunch of assholes." Mimi slurred through it. Her eyes glowed, but dimly, fitfully. Her power was sluggish as well, and the anger was clumsy and unfocused. It sputtered and died.

"You can't be both a dick and an asshole, that's just confusing." Heather replied.

"Oh, shut up." Mimi groaned.

I looked over at Elle. I could still feel Mimi's queasy stomach and vertigo, Elle's numb listlessness. Heather's manic energy, jittering and stumbling over itself. I was surprised, now that I was focusing on it, how was she so with it? Was it just because it had happened to her so often? How often had it happened to her, was this how it always was for her? For them?

I forced the shutters down on my power, and my eyes closed, I covered my face and took a deep breath until my extra awareness of the world faded into the distant white noise. I turned around on the bench and laid my hands flat on the cool tabletop. I had gotten too used to receiving whatever my power fed me unfiltered. I forced it back now, my world shrinking to the dark behind my eyelids. With my grip restored, my eyes opened and I looked at them- Mimi hunched over fighting with her stomach. Elle staring into the distance, a million miles away. Heather, unable to sit still, fidgeting and twitching. Nick, smiling absently and emptily.

I was going to have my work cut out for me.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"The aim is to help Mimi increase her her resistance or control by providing stressors in a controlled environment." Doctor Yamada explained, "It gives patients an outlet and helps them gain greater control of their powers."

Doctor Yamada was in the process of suiting up. She had a fire retardant jumpsuit on, it was aluminized, with a hood and face mask combination. There was a gas mask and oxygen tank on the table.

This locker room was not like the top floor locker room I had used before meeting Mom and Emma... There were shelves with rows of heavy pieces of reinforced clothes. Heavy coats, and full-body suits that looked like it would have been at home exploring the bottom of the ocean. One of those heavy diving suits with the full-head metal helmets bolted directly to a heavy chest harness. But some of these were worse, full body carapaces with steel reinforcement over their whole frames.

I inspected one, fascinated. They were incredibly complex, enough that I concluded they had to be derived from Tinker work- and I pushed my power into it, teasing out the complex structures reinforced with air bladders and redundant armor and bracing metal bars. There was an inner suit and an outer suit. Interesting. I tried to wrap my head around it all.

"It's called bunker gear."

I turned to look at Doctor Yamada, "Sorry?"

"Bunker gear, like a firefighter's." She explained, "You'll need to wear some yourself, or watch from the observation booth."

"I will?" I glanced back at the heavy armored suit. Full-body contact with any of this equipment would be fascinating.

"Elle would need to remain in the booth, however."

"Yeah..." I sighed. If anything happened, Elle probably wouldn't be able to do much. I ran a hand over the heavy protective clothing one last time, my power returning an impression of the intricate framework and joints inside the suit. So interesting.

Mimi was going to use her power today. Doctor Yamada explained it was mainly intended to get Mimi involved in her own therapy, invested in her progress.

"You've done very well for yourself Taylor," She explained, slipping on the fireproof hood over the mask and oxygen tubes, "But this isn't Mimi's first evaluation. It isn't the first time Mimi has gone through exercises like this."

"She can do it." I insisted. She could, I'd felt it, how she struggled against the pull of her power, alone. She was brave, and she wanted to do good.

"I believe you, Taylor." Doctor Yamada replied, carefully, cautiously, "But... Expecting too much this early and you set yourself up for disappointment."

There was more to it than that. It was not quite a white lie. She wasn't trying to deceive me, but I think she was less optimistic than she presented herself.

"All right..." I sighed, "How do you get these on?"

It was a good thing I was so tall, the protective fire retardant fabric was scaled to an adult, it would have been awkward to try and walk in if it dragged on the ground. The oxygen tank went on under the suit's coat, and the oxygen mask went on under the hood and face shield. I blinked in surprise, there was a radio headset built in to the hood. Cool.

"All right, Elle, let's go."

Elle had sat silently in the corner, on a folding chair while Doctor Yamada and I got suited up. I held her hand as we followed Doctor Yamada to the viewing area. Which was a fascinating place that almost made me reconsider sitting this therepy session out, I wanted to see more of it.

I sat Elle behind one of the windows, which was kind of exciting because we could watch as a doctor flipped switches, and lines trailed across a screen in time to three heartbeats. The heart monitor was only one of the screens, all kinds of information appeared in graphs and colorful lines. I wanted to ask questions, but an unspoken tension reigned. I didn't want to disturb him.

A screen from one of the cameras displayed am overhead view as Doctor Yamada walked in.

"Are you going to be okey, Elle?" I asked.

She was tense, her shoulders drawn in, and emotions in turmoil. Fear, anger, nervousness, the ever present frustration. Elle looked away from the window, down at her knees, where her hands fisted in the fabric.

"Are you?" She asked. Slowly, but clearly.

"Yeah, I'm going to be okey." I said, "Doctor Yamada's down there. Mimi's got everything going for her."

"Mimi's... Mimi's tried to use her powers before. Never ends well." Elle said slowly, then looked me in the eye. She was more present than usual, and her eyebrows were knit together. She was... glaring at me.

"Not a good idea."

I sighed. Elle was less volatile, but in some ways she was harder to work with than Mimi.

"Come on. Have a little faith in your friends." I said, giving her my best winning smile.

I couldn't help the twinge of remembered pain in my arm.

"She always hurts everyone." Elle mumbled.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The test room was large, braced and supported and reinforced, with the foam sprayers across the ceiling, and wide drains in the floor. There were cameras spaced in intervals among the sprayers, feeding to the doctors in the observation booth with us. The booth itself was slightly elevated one story above the testing floor, with narrow windows that made it look like they were squinting down on the proceedings. Mimi looked entirely cowed and inadequate under the weight of that attention.

In the observation booth I saw Doctor Kine lean forward and key on the intercom.

"All right. Subject 02785, Burnscar. Phase one begin. Good luck Jessica."

"Thank you Hank." Her voice replied over the speakers and in my headset, "Mimi, how are you doing?"

"Mimi, how are you?"

"...Okey."

"You up to this?"

"Sure. Yeah. Yes." Her voice was a bit stronger now. I could feel her power, vibrating, fluctuating behind the suppressing effect of the medication. The leveler was doing its job, but I was sure now that her power was pushing harder to compensate.

"Auspice? How about you?" Doctor Yamada asked. I blinked and snapped back to the present, flatfooted.

"I'm all right. Uh... Hey. Stop that."

Mimi blinked, and I think Doctor Yamda was surprised by the interruption too. I stepped up to Mimi, and grabbed her one-armed around the shoulders, "You can do this Mimi."

"Um. Okey?" She replied. It was a start.

I think Doctor Yamada was mostly amused, she didn't seem to mind. "You remember the rules, Mimi? You can end the exercise at any point, just say you're uncomfortable. I can stop the exercise too, if I ask for us to stop you need to say 'okey' so I know you heard me, all right? It's so Doctor Kine knows everything is fine."

"Okey." Mimi whispered. I guessed if Doctor Kine didn't hear her he'd... probably flood the room with containment foam, I guessed, glancing at the sprayers on the ceiling.

"Auspice, if you say we need to stop, we'll stop. Understand?"

I could hear the smile in her voice, and also hear that her smile was a little brittle. I... I could feel how nervous she was, how afraid. She wasn't calm at all, but there was nothing of that in her voice. Nothing. It was amazing.

"Yes."

Doctor Yamada said, she hesitated, just a moment. There was some equipment set up in the room itself, something that looked like a pair of Bunsen burners on wheeled carts. A tub of water. A fan and wires. Several blocks in different colors on a long table... Doctor Yamada stepped up to the cart, and turned a knob under one of the burners. A tiny, faint blue flame, almost invisible.

"Let's start small. Can you smother the flame?" Doctor Yamada sighed, "Talk me through it, tell me how it makes you feel, all right?" Doctor Yamada said.

"Okey."

Mimi nodded, and a moment later the flame winked out.

"... Very good." Doctor Yamada said, "How did that feel?"

Mimi shrugged, "It was only a tiny flame, I didn't feel much."

"All right, we'll try a little more."

Next was two flames. then keeping one lit and the other unlit. Further away, closer at hand. Establishing a baseline. Doctor Yamada had walked me through what we would be doing, what I would need to expect. Power use therapy was more in the vein of a gentle, therapeutic exploration. Familiarizing. How does it feel to you when you do this? Does doing this make it easier to manage your powers?

The flames rose towards the ceiling, four feet high.

"... All right, I'm turning off the gas, try to sustain them on your power alone."

She turned the knob and the flames remained, four feet high. Mimi's eyes had begun to glow slightly.

Everything we were doing was basic, not a cure, but a way to look for a cure. Or, not even a cure, a coping mechanism, or to understand her power better. I began to sense frustration from Mimi, and I understood why. This was all a baseline, she had done it before and it hadn't helped her.

"I'm starting to feel it." Mimi said.

"You want to keep going?" Doctor Yamada asked.

Mimi hesitated, I could feel a flicker of attention my ways.

"I can keep going."

"All right," there was an almost imperceptible pause as Doctor Yamada breathed deep, "We are going to move on to alternative medium manipulation."

Doctor Yamada walked to the long table with the blocks, the first was grey. She picked it up and set in in a heavy, insulated ceramic bowl. A crucible. "All right, we'll begin with aluminum. Try to melt it."

Mimi touched the block of aluminum, and flames flickered over its surface, she drew her hand back, and the flames spread over it. In my perception there was that same feeling of drawing in energy from elsewhere, the extra source of power beyond mundane combustion. It was also how she could bear the heat- her power was shunting the excess off to... to somewhere else... The flames rose in intensity, bright enough to leave afterimages when I looked at them, even though my face-shield was darkened.

I glanced at Mimi- her eyes were bright orange, glowing like candles. Her face illuminated by the light of her fire. Her emotions were starting to fade into the background, muted. It was difficult to tell, with the levelers getting in the way.

The flames grew brighter, though the fire itself was small. The heat they gave off increased. It was strange, I could feel the heat through my suit, even though the heavy fabric itself blocked it, I could sense the heat Mimi was producing.

I remembered that aluminum melted at twelve hundred degrees. I didn't really appreciate that before I saw the crucible glowing orange, with the molten metal slowly pooling in the bottom.

"Very good." Doctor Yamada said quietly. She was very afraid, nervous, anxious now. The emotions all bled into each other. But still, nothing showed in her voice. I was a little in awe at her composure.

"Are you still in control?"

"Yes." Mimi replied, and now her voice was flat, robotic.

Doctor Yamada glanced at me, I felt it. Mimi was definitely being effected by her power, but... She was still in control. I hesitated, her mood was still level, the fluctuations still muted and harmless. The tremor in her power was rapid and strong, but still firmly in her grasp.

"We're good." I said.

Doctor Yamada took a deep breath, bracing for... For what? "All right. Mimi, try manipulating the aluminum now."

"Okey." Mimi said. I could feel her concentrating.

The metal remained pooled in the crucible, glowing sullenly orange. I could feel her power working- but whatever mechanic allowed her to manipulate flame seemed to fall short of the molten metal. It was... pecular, to experience it the way I did. Like her power was searching for valid prerequisites to take action upon. Root command not found.

Was that why even being in the vicinity of flames could activate the numbing aspect of her power? Was it a kind of hyper-awareness of flame that functioned by blocking everything else out?

Mimi was frowning now. The numbness her power produced, and the suffocating weight of the levelers didn't quite cover the spike of annoyance I felt from her.

"Come on." She whispered.

I wouldn't have heard her if my power haden't filled in the blanks. It was the only warning I had before the interference from her power spiked, like a tidal wave or an earthquake- the background fluctuation it had maintained through the levelers erupted, nosediving. Into despair.

"Burnscar..." Doctor Yamada cautioned.

And then whiplashed, spiraling, spiking in rage.

"Come on!" Mimi shouted.

There was a flash of light, familiar enough that I flinched. The memory of that pain was like a real brand on my skin, even as a wave of heat washed over me. But it was just the memory, and the sense of heat my power offered, that burned me. A valve opened in my gas mask, and I began breathing the canned oxygen. I was safe inside the heavy fire-retardant clothing. Outside, the room was burning.

Mimi's flames had spread out to every surface in a flash. I had a moment seeing it in its full incandescent glory before the light was snuffed out in a rush. Doctor Yamada was shouting something, arms raised palm-out as she backed away from Mimi, but I didn't hear her.

"No, not now. Come on." My eyes were dazzled, but my power supplied the impression. Mimi's head whipping back and forth, "No no no." Breath suddenly fast, panicking.

The crucible was still a bright orange, glowing bright like a flame. Mimi turned to it, started to reach for it.

"No, Mimi, don't-"

She reached in and grabbed the metal.

 _-A flash in my mind's eye, of the burns down her cheeks. Cigarette burns. Flames didn't burn her, but other things-_

I think she was too used to being fireproof. Her power was still shunting heat away from her. But not all of it. Mimi didn't scream, she just went still suddenly, before she curled around her hands, and fell back from the crucible.

Then the foam was pouring down on us, and I was buried.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"All right, Taylor, we'll be fine. Mimi too. We just need to wait for security to melt the foam down."

"Right... Right..." I said, breathing deeply, "How long does it usually take for them to dig us out?"

"Depends. But it can take a while."

I sighed, and experimented with pulling against the foam.

I'd read about containment foam before- one of the benefits of no longer needing to sleep. A tinkertech invention- elastic, porous enough to minimize chances of suffocation, incredibly sticky, yet nonreactive. It was fire, water, and impact proof, radiation resistant; and almost perfectly inert. A miracle of chemistry and materials sciences.

It was the first time I was seeing it in person, but I'd read about it, seen videos about it online...

When I tried to pull with my arms, to get a finger hold, the foam pulled back. I tried to get me feet under me and found my legs pulled back inexorably. It was like I was wrapped in rubber. I gave up after a few minutes. As I sat there, buried in the stuff, I could feel it pressing down. It was... Quiet.

I could feel Doctor Yamada nearby. She was... I think she was talking to someone else over the headset. A different channel?

Out further, there was a knot of pain and misery that left my hands stinging with an echo of her pain.

There were no burns on my hands.

Further away, Elle, an anxious, worried knot. Further still, a lot of moving bodies. I think they were outside the testing room. Security, I guessed. There was moment and sound, all muffled by the foam but not hidden from my extra senses. They were rinsing out and flushing the room with the chemical that broke the foam down.

I pulled back, reined in my extra senses, until my head was a quieter place and my hands no longer ached with Mimi's pain.

I didn't know what to feel. I... it felt like a defeat. I knew Doctor Yamada had told me to not get my hopes up. I knew that some kind of hiccups were to be expected. I'd still hoped, believed that it'd be better.

There were other ways to go about building Mimi up. To set Elle and Heather and Nick up for success, and get all my friends out of Alchemilla. To become the hero I wanted to be.

This felt like I'd failed. Not just failed at being a hero- not only failed to give Mimi hope and helping her learn to control her powers, but failed as a friend. There had been warning signs, things that ought to have made me cautious, but I'd ignored them. I did something wrong; the feeling sticks with me. I did something wrong, or at the very least I didn't do something that would have been right

It was a half hour before security reached me, hosing the foam off with chemical sprays.

The room looked like a war zone, still splattered from floor to ceiling with foam, most of which was still in the process of dissolving. A team of three troopers carried sprayers with hoses that snaked back out through the open door, spraying streams of chemical solvent into the massed foam, the dissolved mass was ankle deep and only slowly dropping. I knew what the floor drains were for now. The trooper's black uniforms were splattered white and grey from head to toe, like someone had thrown paint over them.

There Also carried additional hoses, sprayers, and tanks on their backs. I guessed that was in case they needed to spray someone with more foam.

Doctor Yamada was already out, her hood and mask off already, looking sweaty and disheveled. She gave me a thin-lipped smile, putting a good front on how discouraged she was. I could feel it- not like Mimi's terrible spirals. Her's was a harder, stiffer emotion. It was stronger, more real, more part of her character and less something outside herself.

Security, decked out in full armor and masks, continued to hose away the foam until they found Mimi. I could pick out a few I might have talked to before. "Miss." There was a tap at my shoulder. "What are we going to find when we reach Burnscar?"

Mimi was a rapidly fluctuating knot of pain, anger, a little fear, self loathing, and despondent sorrow. I touched it, and withdrew feeling hollow.

"She's angry with herself," I said, my voice was flat.

"She violent?

I touched her again, feeling her emotions. But while her emotions were tumultuous, they were not wild like they had been. They were spent now.

"No." I said, "She's not."

The trooper glanced at Doctor Yamada, and I could tell what he was thinking- I hadn't seen her becoming violent before either...

"Burnscar is generally cooperative after an outburst, lieutenant." Doctor Yamada said.

"... Lieutenant, continue dissolving containment procedure." Doctor Kine's voice echoed over the intercom.

"Right."

One of them had a neat tablet, it used some kind of sonar to show what was inside the foam. I found myself trying to care, but I couldn't. The hoses started up again, dispensing a colorless fluid that turned to vapor on contact with the air. When the vapor touched the foam it began to run. My power fed me a rich mix of chemical reactions, the interplay of catalysts and reactants. But it didn't capture my interest the way I wished it would.

A few seconds later, Mimi's hair appeared through the running foam- then her whole head appeared, coughing and spitting the melted foam.

"Mam, you may want to stand cl-"

"Mimi." Doctor Yamada stepped over. I followed.

Mimi sat slumped on the floor, cradling her hands. As we approached she lifted them to her face- her fingers were red, blistered, and blackened. She couldn't use them. Instead she wiped at her eyes with her wrists, her shoulders quaking. She drew her legs in, curling in on herself, knees to her forehead. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was as tense as a steel cord drawn taunt.

Doctor Yamada stopped, and grabbed my arm. Flame sprang into being around Mimi. The Troopers dropped the chemical hoses, and drew the sprayers from their hip holsters. I blanked a moment, I hadn't felt any danger from Mimi, so why...

"Stop, wait!"

The troopers hesitated. And Mimi's fires didn't grow.

The memory of my arm burning was fresh in my mind, but I stepped forward slowly, then knelt down. The flames weren't very hot, they just kind of haloed Mimi's head and shoulders, flickering without burning her. She was immune to them. But not the hot metal still encased somewhere in the foam.

"Mimi?"

She didn't answer.

"Is…is that making you feel better?" I asked Mimi gently. Mimi curled back in on herself and tried to shake me off, but I held on.

Mimi peeked out from behind her knees, her eyes glowing bright neon orange.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, "I-I'm sorry."

Security had lowered their weapons marginally, the vague impressions of their emotions turning- from wary readiness to something a little less intense, and vague pity.

"Everything all right?" I asked.

Mimi blinked, I could feel her confusion, muted behind the veil of her power, "You're not afraid? I've always been... Just... one huge failure after another." her voice was flat.

"Mimi, I..." I swallowed, "You aren't the only one invested in this. We're in it together."

Mimi looked away, "I got foamed again." Mimi said, "Why... You still aren't afraid of me?" Her bewilderment was overwhelming, punching through the numb, the pain, and her despair.

I didn't know what to think, what to feel. Besides that same helplessness I'd been feeling ever since she'd flared up. I didn't know what I would do, or what I could do for Mimi.

Mimi gave me a bewildered look, I pressed on.

"Remember what Blake said?" I reminded her, "You have friends looking out for you, and that counts for something. You have me and Elle, and now you have Nick and Heather too."

Mimi looked away, nervous, unsure, "I-I don't really know them very well..." She said slowly.

This was also familiar territory, "I know," I said, "Don't worry about it, you'll get to know them.

"We're friends Mimi. I... I know you can beat this."

Mimi stared at me, until the orange faded from her eyes again, and the flames guttered out, "Why are you being so nice to me? I'm letting you down."

I glanced up at the observation booth. Elle's face was framed in the window, her hands pressed against the glass, expressionless, but when I touched her with my power she was filled with relief.

I hugged Mimi around the shoulders, and didn't answer.


	23. Interlude - Feral

[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 10/25/17] (thanks Char-Nobyl!)

[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 1/31/18]

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

It was early morning, the light falling through the glass doors in the front lobby was just beginning to move across the tile when a young woman walked through the lobby at Alchemilla.

She was tall, very tall. A peculiare nuance of her power, the same one that made her limbs long and sinewy, and walk with a rolling distance-eating ambling gait. One might be persuaded to say she had a runner's build, lean and hard. Others would have said she was coltish.

She wore a black bodysuit with grey padding sewn into the knees and elbows, and her gloves left her fingers exposed, each ending in inch-long claws. Her eyes were solid green interrupted by an narrow pupil slit, without any whites. Brown hair gathered in a loose braid that would have hung to her knees, now gathered in a braided rope. Her shoulders were sharp and squared, her head held high. She grinned, and her smile had fangs.

She wore a mask- black tied over her eyes, the loose ends trailing down her back beside her braid.

A pair of guards at the front desk stood upon seeing her, and one stepped around the desk to shake her hand, then gave her a visitor's pass. She held onto the smile as they talked to her.

"You know the way?"

"Yeah, I remember, thanks." She knew where he'd be.

She tossed a wave over her shoulder as she stepped into the elevator.

Inside the elevator her smile drooped, replaced with introspection- she breathed deeply, in through her nose. Smelling.

Down an elevator to the patient sections; the door opened and she stepped out, walking briskly. The kiosk guards on the patient floor greeted her, "Morning."

"Morning to you too." Feral returned, sliding them her visitor pass.

He glanced at it, slid it under the ultraviolent lamp and inserted it into the microchip scanner.

"Everything checks out." He handed it back to her.

She took the pass and continued walking. Pushing open a door, the floor under her feet shifted from tile to carpet. Blue carpet and wood paneling, office doors with glass panels and names over them. It was a lobby with a receptionist desk, a dark-haired woman in her late twenties. When she looked up her smile faltered for a moment, then returned with double force as she looked up into the tall girl's face. Feral smiled in return.

"Feral, hello! How are you?"

"Doing great, how are the shrinks?"

The receptionist stood up, sour and rueful all at once, "Oh, you know what it's like. It's good to see you, Kalie."

Miss Tostenson stepped around the front desk and hugged her, "You looking for your father?"

"If I can find 'im."

Tostenson smiled and pointed to her telephone, "I'll page him, he ought to be in this time of day, wait a bit?"

Feral walked over to the waiting chairs and sat down, sprawling out on two seats. She didn't wait long before a sudden and joyous shout sent her heart into her throat, and made Miss Tostenson flinch.

"Feral!" Gretchen erupted from the floor, like a jack-in-the-box in her best impression of Casper the friendly ghost. She looked at the empty chairs, then at Feral where she clung to the ceiling, "Ha! Still got it." She pumped a fist in triumph.

"Goddamit Gretchen, don't do that." Feral growled, trying to extract her hands from the ceiling tiles.

"It's good to see you back!"

Feral succeeded in freeing her hands and dropped to the floor, catlike and almost completely silent. She turned and squinted at Gretchen, where she floated two feet above the floor. "...Is that your new costume?" She asked at last, a little incredulous.

Feral's startled reaction was understandable. Gretchen had altered her avatar until it fit the theme of a child ghost, with eerie pale skin covered with rusty stains spattered across her face, glowing white eyes and a tattered black dress. Feral sniffed carefully. Gretchen looked like a corpse possessed by a demonic presence, but she still smelled like nothing. Gretchen was always a little extra eerie, with the absence of scent.

"Do you like it?"

"Well," Feral drawled, "It got close enough to making me wet myself, so I think it did what you meant 'ta."

Gretchen laughed, floating above the floor.

"Tulpa." The floating girl froze, slowly rotating in place to see Tostenson glaring at her, "Is someone going to be having a conversation with you later about responsible use of powers?"

"...No?"

Tostenson sighed, "Gretchen, we've been over this."

"But... Kalie's back! And I'm the premier reporter, the intrepid news gal! I have to be there when the news happens!"

Feral patted her on her head, even though her hand passed right through- Gretchen could still feel it, "You're a hopeless gossip, is what you are. I'm glad to see you, but it's true."

Miss Tostenson sighed, "Tulpa, I'm not going to report this, but I want you to stop."

"Aww, come on, it was funny wasn't it?"

Feral sighed and glanced up at the ceiling. The tiles she had grabbed had a neat set of ten holes where she'd grabbed them.

"... I can fix that." She said.

"No, no..." Miss Tostenson said, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "It's not a problem, there's a budget for that. Look, Kalie, can you stay here while I take Tulpa back down. Your father will be up in about ten minutes." she fixed a glare on Gretchen, who gave her a nervous grin.

"Come along Tulpa."

Gretchen winked over Miss Tostenson's shoulder, "We'll talk later?"

"Sure."

"Yes!"

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Waiting alone in the lobby while Miss Tostenson escorted Gretchen's projection back to her wing, Feral had some time to think.

She had a lot of memories of this place. They weren't all bad... And every time she volunteered more time here, she discovered more.

Alchemilla hadn't changed much since she'd lived there. But she found herself not minding as much as she'd thought she might. Maybe it was perspective.

But then, the smell, that smell of desperation and fear- she remembered that well. That was still strong. Miss Tostenson... Feral sniffed once again, delicately. Sweat, perfume, the latex and cotton. Soap. A bit of blood. Maybe from shaving her legs? That time of the month? But over it all, fear, anxiety, stress. Tostenson had reeked of it.

Feral followed news about Alchemilla. There had been a recent upheaval after some Shaker transformed the entire hospital and most of the surrounding campus. Her father had talked about it a bit, though not as much as she'd have liked.

It always made her a little nervous to hear about the ongoing struggles at Alchemilla and not know what he was getting up to, or how safe he was. Information security meant she didn't know the names or dates, but she had a better idea of who and what than the image the public was fed.

Alchemilla was dangerous, and despite what he insisted, Dad was getting on in years. He wasn't as fast or as strong he used to be, and wasn't really up to wrestling violent patients any more. He didn't work in the Orange levels anymore, Medium and High security was too intense for him, and even he admitted it. But there were dangerous patients in every security clearance. Sometimes it was the most unassuming ones...

She traced a line down her bicep, expecting some kind of phantom pain, maybe a scar. But her healing was perfect.

Bad memories there. Bad, bad memories. Feral took a deep breath and glanced around the room; the desk, the chairs. The carpet looked new. She would need to talk to the Protectorate garrison chief and say hi to Summer Holiday... It'd been a while.

That was at least half of why she was here after all.

She heard a door open, "Kalie?"

Feral popped to her feet, grinning, "Dad!"

Doctor Selmy walked across the floor with long strides. He barely came up to Kalie's shoulder any more, he gave her a hug all the same. The end result was a little lopsided. Kalie lifted him up, about six inches, before spinning once- quickly, but carefully. Then she set him down with equal care.

He stepped back and appraised her with a critical eye, sweeping her from head to toe- and finding her well, nodded, beaming. "If you keep growing like this, soon you won't be able to stand straight indoors."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." Feral said, "I'm already way too tall. All the guys want fun-sized girls, I'm beanstalk plus-sized."

"Ha!" Doctor Selmy said, "They are jealous."

They started walking, Feral moseying slowly while her long, loping strides easily keeping up with Selmy's shorter legs but more energetic pace.

"It is good to see you, Kalie."

"Same here." Feral said, "I'd heard a lot of stuff outta Alchemilla this month. A castle and a crater, that's new."

They reached his office and stepping in, he turned on the lights.

It was familiar, the chairs and the couch. She sat down on the lying couch and it had a feel of familiarity, even if her perspective was changed with everything smaller, lower.

She remembered their first talk, when she had first walked in the door, frightened, eyes wide and angry. She hadn't known what many of the little comforts he offered her meant, the intent behind them. She hadn't trusted him, trusted anyone. And now Doctor Selmy, much shorter than her most prominent memories cast him. She sniffed- that same certainty and strength, the smell of fear was on him too, but also resolution, strength.

It pervaded the room, sunk deep in from years of occupation. He made it his, and no other scent owned it.

Doctor Selmy stepped behind his desk, rifling around inside a file cabinet. A moment later he came back and sat down across from her, laying out a stack of folders. Then he poured glasses of water for both of them.

"There's an assessment team coming in later, part of repairing and refurbishing efforts. They'll be working with our system and proceadures, trying to patch the blind spots again."

"Huh. I wonder if they'd mind some input."

"I'm sure it could be arranged."

Feral shrugged, "There something else else?"

Doctor Selmy paused, passing her one of the glasses, "Kalie, I need your help. While you're here, there's someone I'd like you to meet. I know you always enjoy working with my patients, but... This is going to be a special case."

Feral blinked up at that, "Why?"

"There is someone, a student of mine." He said, "I want you to look out for her specifically while you're working. She's been taking a lot of risks; good risks, for the right reasons. But I'm worried she is going to bite off more than she can chew and needs someone watching out for her."

Feral gave him a level stare, one corner of her mouth twitching, "What kind of troublemaker is she?"

"What kind are any of us?" He smiled back, "Her her name is Auspice, and I suspect you are going to like her a great deal. She... draws others to her. Reaches out to them, but she doesn't work her way in, she brings them out. She helps them help themselves."

Feral thought about that, "Part of her power?"

"I couldn't say. It's a tough nut to crck, that one. Not as straightforward as lasers or healing, or whathaveyou."

Doctor Selmy lifted his glass and took a sip, "There is also a young woman, she is on her third strike for violence." He leaned forward on his cane and tapped the top folder, "Burnscar, pyrokineic and teleporter. Class one flight risk with many altercations with security."

Feral thought about that, and reached for the nearest folder. "I've heard of her. I don't think I've talked to her before..."

"Burnscar was recently transferred to a lower security level in hopes of cultivating Auspice's influence." he said, "She is a good soul that has been hurt by the world. And the main reason I want you to watch out for Auspice.

Feral leafed through a few more pages. "Do you know who else is going to be in the assessment team?"

Doctor Selmy glanced at the clock on his desk, "Some of them."

"Hmm."

He took a sip of water, at length he spoke, "Are you going to be visiting High security?"

He asked gently, kindly. She recalled tears streaming down his face, and long sleepless nights when it had all come crashing down. But all that was dead and gone and passed.

Feral furrowed her brow, "Will we have time? It's a big group."

"I can clear up some time." He said softly, "We can visit them together tonight. It's not a problem."

Feral heaved a mighty sigh, and rallied a smile, which Doctor Selmy returned.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Feral showing us to volunteer her experiences and opinions was not uncommon. As a former patient in good standing with the Protectorate, she carried some weight.

In this case, it lead to a stuffy room where the ceiling fan spun in lazy circles, stirring the air but not making it any cooler. Six doctors sat across one side of a conference table, piles of papers and folders arrayed across the top. All names familiar to Feral, old friends in their own way. Ferris, Werneck, Yamato, Selmy. Jenkins and Fox, two new faces.

The Protectorate capes that would be handling the patients sat across from the doctors, examining the summaries of the parahumans they would be working with. A television screen on the wall displayed a gaudily dressed man reading from a tablet and humming to himself.

Feral glanced down the line. Summer Holiday and Kudzu, both representing Alchemilla's security staff. Three other Protectorate heroes; Shelter, Pinpoint, and Tecton. The smells in the room where a blend of each, Feral picked them apart and untangled them as the meeting progressed.

Shelter was at least familiar, and her power was useful- she could redirect damage from herself onto nonliving matter and objects she was touching. She was wearing something scented with sandalwood, and her smell was level, without any accent caused by strong emotions. Feral tended to associate it with confidence.

Feral had worked with Pinpoint before, but hadn't particularly enjoyed the experience. He was ex-PRT. His trigger event had left him nearly blind, and possibly the sourest, most foul-tempered and intractible man she had ever worked with.

And, lastly, looming at the head of the table was Tecton. He was bulky, a trait accentuated by his armor, and his arms were encased in heavy gauntlets that looked like a blend of armored gloves and industrial equipment. Feral wondered if he planned to wear his armor for the entire week. Tinkers. He was one of the few individuals that matched Feral's height, at least in his armor. He was a Ward, out of Chicago and his Thinker power was similar to The Lilies', an understanding of structure, of architecture. She smelled machine oil on him, and not much else...

Perhaps more interesting was the Thinker contingent joining them in spirit, if not all in body. Appraiser wiring in his analysis capabilities over teleconference, on loan from the Guild, but both Spur and Whimper were relatively unknown to Feral, local independents affiliated with the Protectorate. They looked nervous, fidgiting, both smelled mildly anxious. This was probably their first time working at Alchemilla.

There were some thirty profiles arrayed in front of the volunteers, it was going to take a while. Had already taken a while. Two hours in, and Feral was fit to strangle someone, and they were only now arriveing at the looming topic- the elephant in the room.

Doctor Werneck ignored him, "The rest of the ward are already covered by current proceadures; new arrivals Bounce, Chimera, and Albatross included. On to Labyrinth herself then."

"Labyrinth is the Shaker, right? The one that transformed your faculty?"

"...She is." Pinpoint replied bluntly, not looking up from the papers in his hands. Feral marked how Pinpoint glared at the papers as he silently read, looming like a thundercloud.

Feral glanced at the television screen, where Appraiser leaned in, just a hair too close to the camera.

His costume was a blend of purple and white tones. A long white coat over top, black visor sunglasses and some gold chains and rings seated at a leather office chair somewhere in- well, Canada, Feral guessed. She didn't actually know. He played up the image of Hollywood glamour, everything gilded; but he spoke quietly, quickly, and nervously. He looked uncomfortable in his own skin, the gold only ended up looking ridiculous. It fit with his theme of 'how much', and his power, but it didn't fit him.

Feral always had a difficult time getting a feel for someone she couldn't smell. It was generally more honest than words or clothing. It was difficult to hide from her nose.

"Auspice, Burnscar, and Labyrinth are working together on the new mentoring program." Doctor Selmy said, "If possible, I would like to keep them together. Objections?"

"I have one." Doctor Werneck added, "Burnscar has the highest danger rating of the three. She's the most unstable as well. Auspice has proven effective in reining her in. I would preffer if Auspice didn't have her attention divided."

Doctor Yamada made a considering sound in her throat, "I think it is premature to end the arrangement as it stands just yet."

"Yes." Doctor Ferris agreed.

Pinpoint was still focused on her profile, "She has been reclassified." he muttered.

Appraiser glanced back at his tablet. "Shaker twelve?" A long, low whistle, "Those are some big numbers..."

"Burnscar is the biggest actual threat?" Pinpoint looked up, his voice was gravelly and harsh to match his face.

He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and brows knit, a rough man with grey in his hair, and the only parahuman present that was not also a cape. He worked for the PRT, still wore his field uniform from PRT Assault; though these days he didn't do as much field work. Not since his injury and trigger. His face was craggy, with a defined jawline and sunken cheeks that would have been distiguished if not for the scars.

Rough, bubbled patches, old burns and lacerations covered half his face, giving him a permanent lopsided sneer, and his left eye cloudy. The right side of his face was scarred as well, with a series of raking scars over his eye, which was now always half lidded and unable to open fully. His expression was permanently set to glower. Feral wondered why he left his face like that, the PRT would have covered reconstructive surgery. Maybe it was a macho-man kind of thing... He certainly looked intimidating. And someone who could pick apart her history, future, and weaknesses at a glance... That was intimidating too.

She scented the air, he smelled of cordite and iron. And angry, he was always angry. She could smell the testosterone, sour and bitter. She had spent a long time training, learning what those smells meant, the heart rate, arterial tension and testosterone production increased, cortisol (the sickly-sweet smell of stress) decreased, and the left hemisphere of the brain was stimulated.

That combined with the cordite made Feral want to sneeze. Had he been putting in extra time at the range before coming? Did he just assume things would not go smoothly? Did he expect to shoot some of these kids?

He always did rub her the wrong way. Idly, Feral recalled a time when she might have leapt across the able at him with a challenging yell on principle. She was glad she wouldn't be working with him. One time was enough.

Werneck looked like he'd bitten a lemon, "I would very much preffer it if you refrained from refering to our patients as 'threats', Pinpoint."

"But she's violent." He said. Werneck and Pinpoint exchanged stares, Werneck frowning stiffly, Pinpoint impassive.

"Pinpoint," Doctor Selmy spoke up, mild as ever, and broke the stalemate, "Burnscar has made tremendous progress recently. You are not here to work with her directly, you are here to work with our security staff, not our patients."

Pinpoint leaned back, dropped his packet on the table and crossed his arms.

"Hey, knock it off." Whimper said.

Whimper was a woman with short brown hair, an athletic build, and a sleeveless jumpsuit. The only thing she wore to conceal her face was a domino mask, issued by the hospital. Next to Spur and Appraiser, and even Pinpoint, she looked far more mundane and down to earth. Approachable, in a way. She wore gloves, and drummed her fingers on the table, glancing between Werneck, Selmy, Pinpoint, and Feral herself. She smelled of caution, thoughtfulness. Low-stress and low emotional impact. Pensive. She weighed her words before speaking.

Feral had read the official profile for Whimper's power, some kind of clairvoyance tied to speech. Hyperawareness of anyone who spoke to her, or whose voice she could hear. Sharpened learning of languages. Whimper herself talked very little, limiting herself to clipped, short sentences- preferring to listen.

"Some of us are here to help." Wimper said, "Not argue."

The silence dragged on until Doctor Ferris cleared her throat, "Moving on. The director included a list of proposed improvements and upgrades before he left, I would like you to look at it. Summer Holiday will be offering her input as well. After that we have a facility inspection, special attention paid to the recent breaches."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

It was not the first time she had sat in with a patient getting routine assessments. Not the first time she'd requested to. The doctors at Alchemilla liked the idea of a solid six-foot-plus girl with a high Brute rating hanging around all helpfull-like. Of course, she'd kind of expected Doctor Ferris to ask her to help with someone a little more dangerous than a Ward in for on suspicion that she was suicidal.

She kind of suspected Ferris wanted to do something like what Doctor Selmy did- but didn't want to go so far and ask for it. Of course, Dad asking was probably stepping over a line. He wasn't good with rules if he felt they got in the way.

The girl Ferris was working with was full of energy. She did what Ferris wanted, but Feral could smell her, and there was a hell of a lot of resentment bubbleing away under the surface.

Which meant she probably ought to have seen it coming, but some things are like that. They sneek up on you

"All right Glassboom. Next mark."

Glassboom groaned, all teenage drama and annoyance. But she obediently bent and leapt straight up, improbably high, her arm reaching out to tap the next mark on the wall. The mark read twenty three feet. Feral was impressed. She could reach that kind of height, but that was because of increased muscle mass and training. Glassboom's power meant that the usual tells for exerting that kind of effort were absent. Her curls didn't bounce, and her knees didn't bend enough when she landed.

They were standing in a tall room in Assessment, what looked like a cross between a full-size gymnasium and a medical exam room. There was a desk and workstation with a computer in one corner by the door, and a battery of equipment set against the same wall. Some of it was mundane- a scale, for example -but a lot of it was more exotic. An articulated arm with some kind of sensor, like a standing x-ray machine, stood out. The ceiling had a series of electrical nodes spaced every second tile. About a third of the floor was covered with rubber. The rest was covered in thick gymnastics padding, and featured springboards, a pommel horse, a horizontal bar, balance beam, vault props...

And the height measure.

"Very good, and twenty four?"

Glassboom managed thirty-seven feet before she started breathing hard and hunched over.

"All right, very good. Glassboom, how are your shins doing?"

Glassboom was bent over, grimacing, "Fine. Let's keep going."

That was a lie. Feral could smell it, and pain. She caught Doctor Ferris' eye, shaking her head slightly.

Doctor Ferris frowned, peering at Glassboom intently, "It's not a good idea to lie to your doctor, Glassboom, I think that's enough."

Glassboom frowned and stood, with only a little difficulty, but didn't protest and limped with every second step. Feral gave her a hand to a seat.

"Fucking legs..."

"You need anything?" Feral asked.

"... Here." Doctor Ferris said, walking up with a little plastic cup in hand, which she handed to Glassboom, "Any sharp pains?"

"No, just achy."

Doctor Ferris frowned, "If you were starting to hurt, you ought to have told me."

Glassboom slung the medicine back with a grimace, and Doctor Ferris gave her a meaningful look before she stepped away and walked to the corner workstation, and began to type at the computer.

Feral stood up and leaned against the wall, watching as Glassboom sat and ached, rubbing her shins. "You were in the Wards, right?" Feral asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Glassboom glared back up at Feral. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were red and watery, like she was holding back tears. Feral smelled desperation, boredom and a sharp smell. Fear. "Yeah, what of it?"

"Cheer up, you'll get out of here." Feral said, "You have a strong power."

"It's so fucking boring!"

"So's active duty, sometimes." Feral leaned back, "I read your profile, you had discipline problems, right?"

Glassboom snorted.

"If you want to go back to fieldwork, get out of Alchemilla and back to your team, you're going to need to work with the docs."

"Like you'd know." Glassboom said.

"I do know." Feral said, "I started out here, in Alchemilla."

She reached out and squeezed Glassboom's shoulder, "I know it can be hard, all right?"

Doctor Ferris stood up, "All right, we're done here."

"... We're done?" Glassboom frowned, "We still have the bounce test... And the punching bag thing..."

"Nope." Doctor Ferris said, "You are heading down to the infirmary right now."

"But-

"No buts, young lady." Doctor Ferris said, waving a finger sternly, "You aren't participating in any further testing without clearance from Doctor Lafayette. Now."

Glassboom stood quickly, a protest on her lips- but inhaled just as suddenly and fell to her knees with a sharp breath.

Doctor Ferris sighed, "Feral, can you help carry her?"

Feral shrugged and knelt down to scooped Glassboom up in one arm, the backs of her knees cupped in her hand and her back resting against her shoulder. The smaller girl gave an indignant squeak.

"Come on, let's get you down there." Feral said, pulling the door open with her free hand and stepping out into the hallway, Glassboom safely tucked into the crook of her arm.

"I hate this!"

Feral raised an eyebrow, "I can carry you another way, if you want."

"Shut up!"

Feral raised her other eyebrow, and now she grinned, "How do you feel about under arm?"

Glassboom gave her one of the most adorable glares Feral had ever seen.

"Awe, aren't you just the cutest?"

The girl muttered mutinously under her breath. Feral guessed Glassboom didn't appreciate not having to walk on cracked shins.

"... You do know how much trouble you're in, don't you Glassboom? If Doc Selmy was working your case, this'd set you back months."

"So what?" Glassboom grumbled, "My bones'll still be soft, even if I get out of this place. I won't get to go out and patrol or anything. I won't get to do anything. Not one fucking thing."

Feral peered at her carefully. "... You do understand how serious this is, Glassboom?"

The route to low-sec's infirmary was familiar enough for Feral to follow by rote. They reached the front desk and an orderly stepped out to help Feral situate Glassboom in a wheelchair. The duty nurse waved them down the hall marked in-processing, Emergency Care, Radiology... Alchemilla's infirmary was a hospital in miniature all to itself. Feral kept pace behind the two as Glassboom was wheeled back to the radiology room, hands crossed behind her head, stretching and bored.

The smells were familiar. Antiseptic. Cotton- from the bed linens. Latex, rubber, plastic, and steel. People. Copper, blood, very faint. Just a trace. The faint smell of roasted pork.

Feral stopped and closed her eyes, scenting the air lightly and then breathing deeply. Yes, the smell of pork, and smoke, and chemicals.

A few scents, like fingerprints, she recognized- but the only strong scent was Doctor Layayette, the others were older. And still that smell of charred meat- it wasn't pork, now that she was paying attention. Mingled with the fainter scent of burnt hair, it was human.

Feral opened her eyes, and started walking again, catching up with Glassboom and her wheelchair- stalking now, stooped slightly, leaned forward, sniffing and listening. Doctor Selmy had described Burnscar. A flight risk, and a repeat violent offender. She was making progress, but she was dangerous. Feral tried to think of any other pyrokinetics in Alchemilla at this security level.

Three patients seated on the hall waiting chairs, talking with Doctor Lafayette. As Glassboom's wheelchair approached, two looked up. It took her a moment to recognize Auspice and Sadboy. The second girl- a blonde stareing into the middle distance -didn't look up and instead remained fixated on the wall.

All three smelled vaguely of smoke and the burnt hair. Feral narrowed her eyes.

"Glassboom? What happened?" Doctor Lafayette exclaimed.

Behind her, Auspice stood. She reached over and grabbed the blonde girl- Labyrinth, that was who it was, Labyrinth -who let herself be led over to Glassboom's wheelchair. Sadboy followed as well, though Feral caught him sneaking a couple uneasy glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. He smelled... apprehensive.

Feral turned her attention to Auspice, her father's current prize student. She was a thin girl, tall for her age, though she had nothing on Feral; in the future she would be willowy, perhaps. Right now, she was long-limbed and just shy of gawky. She had glasses and curly brown hair down a little past her shoulders. A wide mouth and large, curious brown eyes that darted up from Glassboom to Feral with raised brows, and back again. She sized Feral up as Feral returned the favor.

"It's nothing, just my bones being stupid." Glassboom mumbled.

"You didn't go start another fight." Doctor Lafayette tutted, she was a portly, matronly woman in her forties with heavy freckles and hair drawn up in an iron-grey bun. She'd been in Alchemilla since Feral had been a patient. The stern glare she fixed Glassboom with now was very familiar.

"No!"

Glassboom gave her a reproachful look, the girls matched gazes, until Glassboom looked away. The taller girl sighed, and awkwardly patted Glassboom on the shoulder.

"Well, I am glad you're all right." Doctor Lafayette said.

"It wasn't a fight." Feral said, "Doctor Ferris was running baselines with her, she was pushing her limits and didn't tell us when it started to hurt."

Doctor Lafayette sighed, "Oh, Glassboom..."

Glassboom was silent, stareing at her hands in her lap. Shame, disgust. Frustration. Feral could smell it on her, faintly. It was always a humbling experience when your powers failed you. Feral trailed the doctor and her patient, until Doctor Lafayette paused in front of the double doors, one hand on the pushbar. "Feral, would you mind staying with those three?"

Feral glanced at the trio. Auspice, Labyrinth and Sadboy were they stood. She sniffed again.

"Uh, sure." she'd kind of wanted to any way. Needed to figure out what happened. Probably had something to do with Burnscar. And, there was Auspice.

"Sure, I can."

Doctor Lafayette was moving, checking Glassboom's pulse, talking to the orderly. The orderly pushing Glassboom's chair started moving, leaving Feral behind. They disappeared through a door marked Radiology, leaving Feral outside.

Time to sniff out some answers.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Auspice's little knot of friends huddled a little, watching Feral but trying to not be obvious about it... Or, well, trying to not be rude about it. Auspice stood in the middle, holding Labyrinth's hand and occasionally looking at the Protectorate hero. She smelled- admiration and awe, but secondary to stress, sadness, and fear. Feral considered. Sadboy was stealing glances at her- alternating between fear and curiosity. Maybe it was a powers thing. Auspice was more level, her scents all muted and stable.

Also distracted... Worried.

They were sitting across from radiology and intensive care, so they were probably anxious for a good reason. And the smell of burned person. That was still there.

She didn't have anywhere else to be at the moment, though Doctor Ferris might page her. In the meantime, she didn't have anywhere to be. And Auspice, Doctor Selmy's latest student was right there.

Auspice looked up, peering up at her. Even a beanstalk like her had to crane her neck, just a little, to look Feral in the face. Heh, a little beanstalk.

"Hey, I'm Feral."

"You're a Protectorate hero?" Auspice asked.

"That's right."

"So, what're you doing here?"

Breaking the silence like that startled Auspice, who straightened her back and squared her shoulders. Auspice didn't seem intimidated, just a little surprised at the question, "We're waiting for Mimi." Auspice said.

"So, Mimi... That's Burnscar, right?"

"Yes." Auspice said, and glanced at the still silent Labyrinth. Labyrinth was motionless as a statue holding Auspice's hand, only blinking as she stared emptily at nothing. Her eyes were a lovely blue, but glassy and unseeing. Auspice's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "Don't worry, Elle." Auspice frowned more.

"Worry?"

"She's, ah... I can kind of sense stuff. Like, I know she's worried. Upset." Aupsice glanced at Labyrinth, "Not worried about Mimi? Then what's got you so worked up?"

Labyrinth turned and looked at Auspice, blank-faced, but still silent.

Auspice frowned, Feral smelled... A lot of different emotions all kind of blended together. After a moment she shook her head and glanced back at Feral, "Mimi got burned, she was melting some metal and it dripped on her hands."

"Ah, I was wondering what that smell was." And that explained that. At least it wasn't another strike for violence...

Auspice's brow furrowed a little, but she didn't draw back. Under the smoke smell her scent was blended with curiosity, interest, and concern. Auspice's summary was pretty vague about her power. She hadn't been in Alchemilla very long, and had been admitted shortly after her trigger- efforts to analyse it afterwards had been stymied by its nuances.

A whiff of sea-brine. Feral looked up, towards Labyrinth. She swayed slightly- moving only tentatively, little shuffling steps. Auspice took her hand, and Labyrinth blinked back with wide blue eyes and a blank expression.

Feral watched, eyebrows raised as she left dusty, sandy footprints behind her on the floor, and a faint smell of salt brine, saltwater.

Auspice leaned over Labyrinth, talking quietly to her- and as Feral watched, blades of grass sprouted from the floor around Labyrinth, and then small blue flowers. Before Feral's eyes, vines ran up the wall behind the chairs Labyrinth had been sitting at and roses bloomed.

Auspice looked over at Feral, "I need to take Elle on a walk, okay?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

She excused herself and led Labyrinth back to the seats. This left Sadboy standing awkwardly beside Feral, shifting from one foot to the other. "Did she, uh, break anything?" he asked, "Glassboom?"

"Nah. Didn't sound like it." Feral said, "She could still walk, it just hurt her." If she was a betting gal, she'd say it was a hairline fracture, maybe.

He nodded, a little limply, he didn't meet her eyes.

"Glassboom a friend of yours?"

"Y-yeah." He stuttered, "You... You've been here before, right? You're... You're Doctor Selmy's daughter, right? He adopted you?"

Feral tilted her head and squinted at him, "You're awfully well informed."

"Heather- er, Glassboom knows Tulpa. I, uh, hear things." he said.

Feral leaned back a little, Gretchen needed to learn when to keep her big mouth shut.

'Still...' Feral rubbed her forehead, 'that girl.'

"She's going to get herself hurt." Sadboy muttered.

"Yeah?" Feral asked, "Glassboom?"

"Heather already gets herself hurt. Auspice. She wants to help everyone she sees." Sadboy said, sitting down in the chairs where the flowers and vines were already receding, frowning and scowling at his feet.

Feral kept an eye on the two girls. They walked past the reception desk at the end of the hall, and the nurse on duty could see them as well. She smiled.

"Sounds like hero material to me."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

High Security was not like the upper floors. The warm colors, the carpet, and the wood paneling was gone. The floor was rubber, the walls were concrete, and the ceilings were high. The air smelled flat, old. Like plastic and rubber and concrete instead of people, and yet still had that distant hint of fear, desperation. Just a trace. Old. There was little foot traffic down here.

Feral walked very slowly, hands in her pockets. At her right, Doctor Selmy kept pace silently, pensive.

This was a pilgrimage, of sorts; a reminder of were she had come from. Her history.

They reached a checkpoint gate. A booth with mirrored glass, pressure plates on the floor, cameras on the wall and ceiling. One turned to track them as they walked. That was new.

Security had received a complete overhaul since she had lived here. The silence was deafening, it rang in her ears. Feral wanted to break it, say something. Having Dad there was comforting, but his presence was not stabilizing like she hoped. What had she hoped? She never knew what to feel when they came down here, to see... to see them.

It was too complicated, she never knew where to start unraveling it. She never knew what to say. It always reminded her, of her first year, confused by kindness, upset by stillness.

They both slid their identification cards under the reader. A moment later they slid back without a word, and the door opened.

Inside the hall was flanked with picture windows. A second level of windows was visible above them on a balcony. The first two windows flanking them looked in on rooms with chairs, desks. One desk had a computer, another had a pile of books perched precariously on one corner.

They passed two more, one shuttered, the other's walls plastered with framed photographs. Little touches that showed the rooms were occupied. Feral breathed deeply, but all she could smell was herself and Doctor Selmy. His scent was fairly strong, he had to come down here regularly.

Feral tilted Her head, listening. There was a thud somewhere. A moment later she heard it again.

This was a specialized suite of rooms, set apart from the majority of the asylum. It allowed the patients here some privacy and helped protect Feral herself.

If the fallout of her fuckup got out, she didn't want to know what would happen.

The thumping was getting closer.

Feral and Doctor Selmy turned left, the room on their right was occupied.

By Feral.

She was in the room, standing against the window, bracing her arms against it. Her eyes were closed. The window was smeared with blood and, as Doctor Selmy and Feral watched, she reared her head back and slammed it against the reinforced glass. Her nose flattened and a streamer of blood splattered the window below her face. Her scrubs and hair were speckled red with blood.

Doctor Selmy and Feral stood frozen a moment, watching her duplicate rear her head back again- as she moved her head from the glass her crushed nose snapped back into place, the blood on her face absorbed through the skin. Only the blood on her hair and clothes remained. In a blink her face was whole and clean. then she slammed her head against the glass again.

Doctor Selmy quickly stepped to the window, thumbing a button set into the sill, "Helen! Stop this!"

The other Feral opened her eyes- one slitted and catlike, the other shockingly red from a burst blood vessel, causing the blue iris to stand out even more sharply. Its pupil was round. The skin around that eye was faintly purpled and bruised- but the bruising was fading even as they watched.

"Doctor?" The other Feral, Helen said, slurred. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Doctor Selmy said quickly, "How are you? Feeling? How are you feeling?"

Helen swayed in place, the hemorrhage in her eye faded, and the eye cleared, the bruising cleared, "...I have a headache." she said slowly and carefully.

She wasn't a perfect copy of Feral, differences were apparent with some attention. She was shorter. Her hair was not as long, and the tips were darker, black, fading in a gradient towards the roots- where it wasn't splattered with blood.

"A headache? I can imagine, you're under a lot of stress." Doctor Selmy said, "Would you like to go sit down?"

Helen swayed in place a moment, her mismatched eyes glazed and unfocused, "...Yes."

"Good, good. I'll be talking with you later, go relax for a bit."

Helen turned and stepped back from the window, there was a chair in the corner, it was comfortable and more importantly, bolted to the floor. Feral remembered, because Helen had attempted to rip it up and throw it at her the last time she had visited. Helen didn't sit on the chair, she slid to the floor against the wall, staring into the middle distance.

The next window they passed held another duplicate, this one quietly rocking in a corner. Her hair was more red, auburn to Feral's own brown. This one didn't look up as they passed.

At the end of the hall a door opened into the suit common room- two orderlies were present, as well as three patients.

Frida had dark eyes, stretched-out long limbs on a body too small for them, and sat in a wheelchair. Another was blond- Feral caught a faint whiff of chemical dye -her gaze rested on her bare feet. The third was not as pronounced; still smaller, still colored right. But then she looked up and both eyes were green, catlike, with slit pupils.

"Hey. Kalie." She said, flatly.

"Hey." Feral replied, "... I'm back."

The other-her nodded, jerkily, "It's... It's good to see you back."

Doctor Selmy stopped beside the Feral in the wheelchair, his voice was soft, gentle. "Frida, how are you feeling?"

"Started having the seizures." Frida said, "Hard to talk." She looked emaciated, the musculature had yet to catch up with the rapidly expanded skeleton.

One in six of the original test group of thirty had survived. But it was almost worse. Their smell was almost entirely her own, and getting stronger each time she visited.


	24. Interlude - Geoffrey

[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 1/31/18]

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Visiting Kalie's... siblings... always instilled a certain weariness in Geoffrey Selmy.

Not a physical tiredness, and not a philosophical futility. It was an emotional hollow that swallowed everything else up and no amount of energy filled. Not only due to what they represented to Kalie, the painful reminder of her darkest hour and the weeks of backsliding that followed. Telling her that she couldn't have known, and reassuring her that he stood by her- even while he was under review himself.

Those that had died here were his charges, and he had stood by them the same way he had stood by Kalie. Even as they started to slip through his fingers.

Kneeling next to one of the most endangered of those here under his watch, he felt quite hollow indeed.

"Judy, how are you?"

The woman, curled in on herself in the corner, was thirty years old. She'd been twenty-four when she had been diagnosed with liver cancer. Her prospects had been poor. She had the option of getting a transplant, which would be expensive, or undergoing the PRT's study on Kalie's power and get paid for her own surgery. Now, she sat in the corner of her room in Alchemilla, rocking and hugging her legs.

"Not me. Not me. Not me. Not me. Not me."

"Judy?"

Judy's eyes emerged, peeking over her knees. They were dilated, almost all pupil swallowing up the color. She shivered, and her head snapped back against the wall with a crack, eyes rolling in her head.

"Not... Not me!" She shook her head, swaying with the motion. Her hand reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes; her fingers were shaking, her arm jerking irregularly.

Her motor skills were deteriorating rapidly, earlier that week she had been able to stand. Now, she could barely talk.

Geoffrey looked up at Meredith, "Has she taken her medication-

"There isn't an appreciable difference any more, Doctor," Meredith said, sadly. "She's too far gone."

"I see," he breathed, sighing from deep within, feeling every year to his bones.

Meredith Wainwright was an older woman, with kindly eyes and a small frame. She had been at Alchemilla eight years now, and had more than a decade of hospice care prior to her transfer. The last two years had been primarily caring for the woman here, slowly transforming into copies of his daughter.

Elsewhere in Alchemilla she would have been relegated to an administrative or supplementary role, but Feral's copies didn't get violent, not even after the seizures started. Instead of the helpless anger, or worse, the dismay and despair found elsewhere in the hospital, the girls here fell back to a childlike state, filled with an infant terror. Meredith and the orderlies that worked with them needed a softer touch than was sometimes found at Alchemilla.

"Are we going to lose her too?"

Every line on Meredith's face deepened, and her soulful brown eyes were soft as she watched Judy rock in confused terror, "I certainly hope not." Meredith replied, and that was the most comfort she could offer.

As they watched, Judy started to cry, bawling and wailing like a child. Like a baby. Meredith knelt down and pulled Judy into her arms and held her as she wept in bewilderment.

Geoffrey stood and quietly turned, closing the door behind him.

Judy might live. Helen might too, and Frida was probably through the worst of it. He was starting to suspect that those that had survived to this point would pull through.

Back in the commons room, Kalie sat with Frida and Jacie while Mack paced in front of them- talking emphatically, punctuating some point with sharp swings of her arms.

"-a whole team of Ferals, I mean, I always kind of wanted powers, and it might be cool to try something like that." Mack was saying, "Once this- this- this thing is done and we- we finish becoming more of you..."

Mack ran hands through her hair- eyes darting to Kalie and away nervously, her eyes had completely turned their new color, narrowed and catlike.

Geoffrey was glad of that, there was usually a period of a week or so when the patients afflicted with Feral's rampant power went blind. It could last longer, depending on the order in which organs metastasized. For Mack, that hell was over.

Kalie's hair was undone- a massive cascade down her shoulders that Frida ran her fingers through, clumsily arranging her hair into a new braid.

It struck a chord both bitter and sweet to his very core, whenever he saw the tenderness with which Kalie treated them. It was heartening, and proved that in the face of the tragic results of Kalie's attempts to use her power to benefit others, Kalie had her heart in the right place.

She always had, he was sure. Even through her years as the hellion of Alchemilla.

Mackenzie was showing off her costume sketches now, Kalie commenting as Frida steadily worked through the braid. Kalie looked up when he sat down, nose twitching slightly as she tested the air, "How is she?"

"About as well as can be expected." Geoffrey sighed, "We'll know better in a few days."

The look that Mack and Frida exchanged didn't escape Geoffrey. He had seen it more than once over the past years. The little common room had a wall covered in photographs, and Frida's eyes flickered to it momentarily. The photographs were of the others, the ones who didn't make it.

Their shrine to the fallen. Kalie's idea.

He leaned back and let Mack talk, and Frida braid Kalie's hair while Jacie sat on her lap. It was something of a ritual whenever Kalie visited. Kalie's personal resolve to do right by them, and her almost childlike determination and dedication to the classical ideals of a hero. Defender of the weak, champion of the just.

She was... surprisingly innocent. Was that the right word? Geoffrey pondered that.

Yes... Before he had adopted her, she was dedicated to the nonsense she had been raised on; childish dreams of street-level glory such as it was. Measured in most impressive thievery, most impressive scar, most intimidating reputation. Each grisly reality she confronted left her horrified and terrified, and searching for an anchor, even when she loudly refused to trust him. He had seen that blossom forth into the drive that encapsulated her as a young woman. Despite being far from innocent in any conventional sense, Kalie was motivated by a childlike faith in her own capability, and his own.

He hoped, more than anything else he aspired to, to do justice by that faith.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Kalie's hair was braided, and Helen was pursuaded to join them long enough for Kalie and Frida to paint all their nails.

Helen was jittery, confused and frightened in turns, she swung back and forth between lucid and fugue states, and Kalie had to restrain her briefly when she started pulling out her own hair. Geoffrey made a note to put her under observation for the next two weeks, throughout the episodes until she stabilized.

Shortly after the hair pulling was stopped, it became clear that Helen would need to be returned to her room, and Geoffrey called and end to visiting hours.

"I'll be back tomorrow, I hope," Kalie said, squatting down to eye level with Frida, and ruffling Jacie's hair.

"Yeah, looking forward to it," Mack said, standing behind Frida's wheelchair. Frida just nodded.

Kalie was quiet as they walked back, mulling.

They reached the elevator, stepped inside. Kalie thumbed the button for the floor above, then gave a cheeky wave to the camera dome on the ceiling. Geoffrey laughed. "Hey, that got a laugh," she said, grinning.

Two floors up, the elevator stopped, and the two stepped out. "Tomorrow we'll have something more involved than babysitting." Geoffrey said, "Make sure you sleep well, Kalie."

"Yeah, thanks." She bent down and hugged him- gently -around the shoulders.

He watched her go, head held high, steps sure. He turned and began walking, more slowly now.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The week was a whirlwind of tests, sessions, meetings and a stressful, shifting itinerary. By the end, he found himself sitting in on the security assessment team. He had drawn the metaphorical straw and come up short.

It was unavoidable. With Director Foster officially withdrawn from Alchemilla, with his replacement still not declared, and Assistant Director Harvey occupied with renovations, the bad press, and general fallout from the past several weeks, Geoffrey was the senior-most doctor on hand. This left him to direct the efforts of the Protectorate capes, and approve or defer their suggestions.

It was not the authority of a Director, of course. Any suggestions he made would be shunted through a committee, implementation would be out of his hands. Like most of the bureaucracy in the PRT, it was sluggish. In the fast-paced and ever-shifting landscape of parahumanity, it never seemed like enough.

He was reminded of Doctor Yamada's complaints in her more unguarded moments. Jessica often said she didn't make plans, because there was always a crisis of some sort. While Geoffrey tended to find such mentality dangerous and demoralizing, he could certainly sympathize. It frustrated Jessica to no end.

Jessica Yamada had an iron spine, and a good head on her shoulders. He would have preferred her, and not Kenneth.

Kenneth Fox was... He was not a bad man. Eager, compassionate. Very intellectually agile and well-read. Very at home with theory and observation. Not the worst colleague Geoffrey had worked with.

But he was inexperienced, untested; too new, too unsure of himself. Too nervous.

There was a divide in the staff at Alchemilla, the ones that lasted and the ones that passed through. Geoffrey had watched the tide roll in and then out enough times to see the driftwood come and go. The philanthropists never stayed, never lasted.

If compassion was Kenneth's motivation, Geoffrey would have to advise him to find a different venue. Too many bright young minds burnt themselves out at Alchemilla.

Then again, there was another possible motive. Fascination. Typically, a fascination with dysfunction. Neurological, philosophical interest, but first a fascination with dysfunction. Many psychologists and psyciatrists were like that.

Doctor Kenneth Fox struck him as the latter.

Geoffrey guessed Kenneth's nervousness was mostly a result of the chilling glower leveled by Pinpoint directly across the table from him. The severe expression leant a degree of savagery by his scars that no whole human face could hope to match.

Summer Holiday sat beside Pinpoint; Shelter and Tecton rounded out the group on the other side.

Tecton was not wearing his armor today- instead sporting a jumpsuit in his colors- bronze and rust red -and a domino mask. He did wear a rather elaborate bandolier and belt, with multiple pouches and electronics. A particularly elaborate device, something resembling a baton crossed with a handheld radio hung at his shoulder and trailed a rope of wires over his shoulder. The boy himself looked uncomfortable and rather plain. Well-built and brawny, but only when measured against any other sixteen year old, with short brown hair and average height. He shifted a bit in his seat, not as agitated as Kenneth, but nervous.

He was, Geoffrey understood, a relatively new addition to the Wards program, and this was his first visit to Alchemilla. It was understandable.

In contrast, Summer Holiday was immaculate and unruffled as ever, her flesh and blood leg crossed over her prosthetic. Of all those present, she was the only one that appeared at ease, the only movement she betrayed the tapping a single finger on her arm as she spoke.

Pinpoint was the tough sell. Assessment of the likelihood of, and the prevention of, Interjection events was the primary purpose of power assessments. For patients with particularly volatile or indiscriminate powers this was especially important, and Pinpoint was well-suited to assessing the patients and the security intended to keep them safe and contained.

He was also well-connected in the PRT, an experienced field operative and consultant, his word held considerable weight. And however blunt and tactless he seemed, his advice was valid- Geoffrey admitted, scanning the list of recomendations.

A list Geoffrey was scanning between glances at his cooleagues. Most of the suggestions were sensible. Practical.

Others were perhaps more representative of his time in PRT Assault- and an attitude more typical of PRT leadership. That of controlling dangerous parahumans, controling public perception of them, and of shaping the role they held in society. But closer restrictions were more often counter productive than not at Alchemilla.

"Labyrinth's power and its nuances are manageable, and she isn't dangerous." Summer Holiday said.

"Transforming the entire campus and blocking rescue attempts for hours dosn't sound mangable to me." Pinpoint countered.

Summer Holiday's face was impassive, but she did glance sideways at Pinpoint before answering. "I feel it would be premature to suggest a drastic change of routine. Particularly considering the mentor program, and its current, optimistic outlook."

Geoffrey looked from one to the other, then picked up a second packet and began to leaf through. Tecton, thusfar silent in the exchange, shifted uncomfortably on his chair.

The meeting proceeded, Pinpoint and Summer Holiday butted heads, an argument broke out. Summer and Pinpoint both sniping back and forth under a veneer of civility and professionalism, while Summer seethed and Pinpoint glowered, both steadily getting more heated.

Geoffrey let it progress just long enough to cut it off at the source and adjourned the meeting, to let hot heads cool. Frustrateing, but not unexpected. Strong-willed people often made good heroes, but poor negotiators; and Pinpoint had a, ah, reputation.

The two senior heros left quickly, faces stony and silent. Geoffrey gathered up a handful of papers, the folders and paraphinalia could remain for the time being, for next time.

"Good god," Kenneth muttered. "My neck is seizing..."

Geoffrey clapped him on the back, "Get something to eat, Kenneth. This mess will keep until after lunch."

The younger doctor nodded and showed himself out. Geoffrey stopped, looking at the table, still strewn with papers. A mess, Geoffrey sighed.

Tecton stood just outside the door, looking uncomfortable and unsure, arms crossed and eyes snapping up when Geoffrey finally stepped out into the hall.

"Ah... Tecton."

Tecton fidgeted and shifted from one foot to the other. Geoffrey watched him, resting his hands on the head of his cane.

"Remind me again, you are out of the ... Chicago Wards, correct?"

"That's right."

"I've done rounds out that way. The Windy City's winters are a little colder than I prefer, but it is beautiful in summer."

"Yeah."

"What can I do for you?"

"Ah... A friend of mine wanted me to ask about, uh. Monster capes."

Doctor Selmy frowned, and leaned back a little, "Monster capes?"

"Well, I..." Tecton shifted a little, hesitating.

Geoffrey glanced down the hall, "Walk with me?" He set off, and Tecton fell into step, keeping pace beside him, "... Does this friend have a name?"

The boy hesitated.

Geoffrey was beginning to sense a pattern, see why Tecton had been so quiet in the presence of the senior Protectorate capes. He deffered to his seniors. Not a flaw per say, but he might have difficulty asserting himself...

"Gully," Tecton said at length.

Doctor Selmy tapped his fingers on the head of his cane, "Tell me about your friend, Gully."

"She, uh. She's helped me a lot. My power isn't really straightforward, and there's... Issues." Tecton paused, searching fore words. "Every Tinker's different, and Tinker powers, they aren't straightforward like some powers are. I had a lot of trouble with mine. Tinkers that work with buildings, that's rare."

Geoffrey made a considering noise in the back of his throat.

"She's looked out for me, you know? She asked me to keep an eye out for other monster capes, if I could."

Geoffrey nodded slowly, "Gully, does she, by chance, suffer from memory loss?"

The boy nodded, more confidently this time. His eyes were steady behind the silly domino mask, "She doesn't know who she was, without powers."

"In the circles I move in, as well as to many in the Protectorate, they're called case fifty-threes. I believe Alexandria coined the phrase?" Geoffrey said, "I imagine... She has fairly prominent physical mutations due to her power?"

Tecton looked away, "Yeah. She gets a lot of grief for it. All of them do."

Geoffrey stopped, and turned to face the boy. Tecton met his eyes, his own gaze earnest.

"Have you met many?" Geoffrey asked.

"A few... Gentle Giant. Sanguine."

Tecton was open, honest, his eyes clear- it was welcome and real. Geoffrey smiled, "I imagine she is lucky to have a friend like you." Geoffrey said, "As it happens, there are a few patients like her here. Many pass through PRT assessment when they're discovered, though I don't recall any calling themselves Gully. I probably ought to warn you, however, we have recently lost a patient; he left us for Baumann Penitentary. The experience was not pleasent for any of us, I can't promise they will be receptive."

Quilt would be, and probably Frog too. Prowler tended to go along with the majority. Oilbloom and Mantellum had never met Lizard Prince. It was Inkling that would be the opposition there.

"I understand." Tecon said.

"No." Geoffrey said sharply, "You don't understand, don't go into this assuming you will." He sighed, "Case fifty three parahumans have very little. No family except the ones they make. Not all of them are lucky enough to find the Protectorate and the Wards. Many, a great many, end up in trouble with the law. Or dead. The numbers are not good."

Too many. Dead or lost...

Tecton swallowed, "Who was it? That went to the birdcage?"

"A minor villain named Lizard Prince." Geoffrey said, "...Oh, don't give me that look. He was just a petty thief. Lizard Prince gave them a place to belong; he was personable, when he wanted to be. His loss hit them hard."

He paused, "I'll introduce you"

Tecton nodded thoughtfully, "Thank you, sir."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

That evening, Geoffrey walked back to his office feeling his age. He walked with an unhurried pace and carried his cane, but didn't lean on it. Not yet. The days were still few and far between that he needed it to walk in earnest, though his steps were slower than the year before. The hall felt longer, and the day heavier. But he was still up and about.

He opened the door and flicked the lightswitch. The chairs, the lying couch, the carpet underfoot. Bookshelves with well-worn books. Kalie would be by soon, he just needed to gather his keys... Though visiting her siblings had left him feeling hollow, Kalie's energy, her drive, her smile so soon after that sobering reminder had left him light and filled.

Geoffrey sat at his desk, and checked his watch. He had a few minutes until Kalie was free. He leaned back, then, on impulse stood and stepped to the bookshelf.

Geoffrey ran a hand along the spines of a set of larger books- albums. Some of his most treasured possessions.

One he selected. The first pages filled with papers scribbled with a pen that scored them deeply. A splash of angry color here and there, indecipherable as the rest of it was.

The Kalie he remembered had walked in through the door, hands fisted, head bowed as if in anticipation of a blow, with wary, untrusting eyes. When she talked, she boasted, challenged, spat profanitiy like it was a contest- and only the dirtiest mouth could possibly win. He knew what she wanted to do: to knock the stupid man in the stupid tie down a peg. To show him who was boss. To prove herself worthy. To bite before she was bitten. Everything she had been raised to understand.

Geoffrey had read her profile. She had been part of a child street gang for most of her life. By the end of their first session, Kalie threw herself at him with an inarticulate scream, and gave him a black eye.

As time went on, he learned more. How she had triggered near death, bleeding out from a broken bottle shoved into the side of her neck. How she had been beaten as a child. Losing her virginity while drunk, at the age of thirteen, and telling it while she stared at him with a smirk that asked him to give her a reason to punch him.

But under the anger and fear was a young woman rudderless, dissatisfied and desperately looking for a cause and a reason for her life.

He turned a page and they morphed into lines of letters, then to words, as Kalie learned to read and write.

Kalie had learned to read here... Words were followed by basic mathematics.

There were pictures mixed in with the rest, also transforming. First the simple drawings. Stick figures and simple shapes. Then it transformed. Budded and bloomed.

He turned the page and saw himself, first simple sketching, then… then a work of love, painstakingly rendered over days or weeks. A surprise birthday present.

It was the odyssey of a soul. He fell back on remembering...

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Did you have fun?"

A fist punched the air in triumph, "Hell yeah!" Kalie crowed, "I got to do all sorts of tricks 'an show off my aeorbics!"

"Acrobatics?"

"Yeah, that! Flips and shit."

He clapped her on the shoulder, not as solid as it would be in later years, but still wiry and hard. He remembered her, could see her there- so short, though taller than most her age, still so tall- and thin from many days with less food than a growing child needed.

"I'll try and arrange for another ride-along," He'd said. It was one of the very best days, and Kalie was glowing with success.

The Protectoarate hero that had supervised her for the afternoon was Kiloton. Now, Kiloton was a big man, with heavy armor and an actual cape, one of only a handlful Geoffrey had seen. He had the heroic jaw, and the build, the perfect photogenic smile that meant he ended up in the news far more often than his actual exploits might have merited, the Protectorate loved it when it had a good face to present...

The fact that he had volunteered for the program, however, indicated that there was more to it than the heroic archetype he projected on the news. And somehow he had made a good impression on Kalie... She was actually gushing. "I mean, all he can do is make himself heavy, but he can high-five a satellite!"

Geoffrey made a note to ask how he had managed that...

Kiloton laughed and ruffled her hair, and Geoffrey felt a secret knot in his chest loosen, just a little. Because Kalie smiled back and laughed a little, ducking under Kiloton's hand. Still a little wary, but not actually afraid any more. He said he'd be open to another ride along, and that Kalie had been a model Ward. It was everything Geoffrey had hoped for, and more. Kiloton bid them both a good night and the big lug let himself out.

"Hungry?" Geoffrey asked.

"Oh hell, yes..."

Dinner had come and gone while she had been out. So he had ordered chinese, and a lot of it. It seemed Kalie was always hungry, the odd metabolism her power enforced burning away inside her. He ordered her lo mein and General Cho's chicken, and an extra carton of rice for both. Potstickers and noodles. Enough food for three people, maybe four. He handed her a carton and Kalie began to inhale it. She sat in one of his well-stuffed office chairs, seated with her legs over the back, kicking lazily in the air. Geoffrey watched her get to work with one of the most honest smiles he had ever worn. The memory was warm and peaceful.

Kalie's mood was high, and fey. Lending itself to smiling, though it was fading to something more introspective now. Something thoughtful. She had been taken on a ride-along with a Protectorate hero and she was thinking about the future, uncharacteristically deeply and quietly.

He would find, later, after Kiloton gave his report, that the Protectorate event- one at a home for abused women and children -had affected Feral deeply. Affected Kalie deeply.

Eventually, she was pensive, her spirits low. Low enough, in fact, to send him a doleful look, complete with puffed-up cheeks. Her hair was pulled up behind her head, a big fluffy, puffy ponytail. The beginnings of her great roping braid she was so proud of in later years. Kalie looked at him, frowning in that manner she had as she chewed. Her eyes with those strange, narrow pupils of hers, wide and earnest.

Geoffrey tilted his head. At that angle, she rather resembled a squirrel, with her ponytail flared at the back of her head like a tail. She also had rice stuck to her face, he wondered if she'd notice...

Kalie swallowed, "Some only got pain to give 'cause pain all's they ever got. Why's that what they got? What I got?" Kalie gazed at him with quiet solemnity, earnest, as if to convey what she felt through her face alone.

"Don't you have more than pain now?' He asked in turn.

"...I guess I do."

Geoffrey knew that sometimes she felt so much that it became muddled, and her face went curiously blank instead. This might be one of those times. Too much age on a child's face, though Kalie had never been a child in the usual sense.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Hey."

Geoffrey blinked. Coming back to himself.

He was on the last page. He did not remember turning the pages, perhaps he was finally getting old? Bah, now he was starting to sound like Foster, dropping what he probably thought of as 'subtle' hints that he was past his due date and it was time to retire. Well, Foster had retired, and he'd outlast the next Director too, likely. Foster was his third, after all.

He looked up. Kalie was there, with a duffle bag slung over one arm. Looking at him quizzically and maybe a little exasperated.

"I'm sorry," Geoffrey said, standing, "Are you ready?"

"Hmm?" Kalie leaned in, looking at the album, "Oh. My old stuff..."

"Indeed." He placed the album back it its place of honor.

Kalie looked a little bemused, folding her arms and raiseing an eyebrow. "Hey. I met Auspice."

"Oh?" Geoffrey quirked an eyebrow at the revelation, "What did you find?"

"She was kind of interesting, I guess... Found her in the infirmary with two of her friends, Sadboy and Labyrinth." Kalie said, "They said they were waiting for Burnscar."

"Burnscar? Oh. Yes, I heard." Burnscar, the problem child, was a thin, stringy girl who gave the impression for being terrified of Her own shadow in a room full of people terrified of her. Geoffrey sighed,

"She was using her power to melt some aluminum, attempting to manipulate the heat inside the metal without incinerating it. Some of it started to run and splashed her." Geoffrey frowned, the first day baseline was not where he had anticipated any major hiccups, Glassboom and Burnscar injuring themselves did not bode well, "Fortunately, the burns were minor."

"Hmm."

Kalie tilted her head thoughtfully, "I smelled burnt pork and hair, thought I was going to find out Burnscar burnt someone, not that she got burnt."

"Alchemilla does promote a pessimistic outlook."

Kalie wrinkled her nose, "Never did like the smell here..."

It was likely fortunate that Kalie and Auspice had met as early as they did. He hoped they would be able to play off each other, and that Auspice would find his spirited, beautiful daughter an inspiration- a mentor.

There were few Geoffrey could recommend for the role like Kalie.

Alchemilla was not a place for tender hearts, not a place for hearts easily broken. No. But with all suffering, there was a crucible's fire from which great souls could emerge. It went hand in hand with the mortal experience. All the greatest he had ever touched had endured it, and the experience educated and informed his own actions and fortitude.

Some heroes were ignoble. But the thin street child with cat-eyes and superpowers, the one that saw him as a hero, might have been one of the most unlikely of all. She certainly was his.

"You ready to go, Dad?"

His threw his coat over his shoulders and picked up his breifcase, his cane was in his other hand, "Yes, let's go."

Geoffrey reached out and flicked the light switch, and then closed the door.


	25. Eyas 4-1

[REVISED SOMEWHAT - 1/31/18]

[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Days passed. My schedual changed, changed again.

Therepy groups were broken up, reassigned. Elle stayed with me, other faces were shuffled. We were moved to another room. Board games in the evening with Nick and Heather... The next day there was a fight, I think, I could sense some of it, picked it up through vibrations traveling through the floor.

Later, there was a fight in our own group. One of the patients picked up chairs and threw them at the rest of us. Another started to grow glowing yellow tendrils out of every surface she touched, they attempted to entangle anyone nearby and the room had to be evacuated until they dissipated. We were shuffled again, in the next group there was a brawl, two patients- one generating small minions that seemed to be made of animate glue and the other with bursts of speed and flight that left behind tangible illusions.

The doctors and nurses were frazzled, and I heard one nurse exclaiming in bewilderment, close to tears, that it was shaping into one of the worst years Alchemilla had ever experienced.

I found it hard to concentrate. I didn't see anything coming. My power just returned a low grade of chaos, vague warnings and hints of friction. I was on my back foot now, and I kept thinking about the worst case, my mind conjuring up increasingly terrible possibilities.

After lunch a nurse came to call me up to the little conference room the second time, my heart fell to my stomach, which surprised me. I thought as I walked, trying to pin down why.

It was different this time, because my understanding was different... The atmosphere had changed. The first time I had not known what I was walking into, but I had not been anticipating something unpleasant. Seeing Elle and Mimi had been a pleasant surprise. I'd anticipated helping them. That had changed. My heart had settled uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.

I opened the door and stepped in and even though my power already alerted me, it still felt like I'd been doused in cold water. Doctor Yamada, Fox, and Werneck occupied one side of the table. Elle was there as well, but Mimi was nowhere to be seen and my heart fell from the pit of my stomach to my feet.

She was still in in the infirmary, and due a visit from Wine. She'd be out tomorrow, but the knowledge felt hollow. If we were having this conversation without her, I guessed what it might mean.

And it was my fault.

"Auspice, why don't you have a seat?" Doctor Werneck asked. Was it my imagination, or was that sympathy I felt from him? It made me stop and take notice, and I tried to puzzle through it as I took my seat.

Doctor Werneck cleared his throat and shuffled a sheaf of papers in front of him. I could sense... Displeasure from him. Hesitation. Like the last time we'd met, there was his businesslike directness. Blunt. And still, sympathy, but not like I'd seen it from Doctor Yamada.

"Right, now this is week one, review of the mentoring program." He said, "Our first order of business is touching base."

He looked over at me, and the intensity of his gaze again drew a comparison to a hawk, "Auspice, how are you holding up?"

"I'm doing fine," I said, cautiously.

"Good..." he said, "I understand two of your friends are in the infirmary?"

Heather was out already, her self-inflicted injuries were fairly minor and had her back on her feet grousing and scowling over her weakness and the fresh reminder. Nick told me it happened every once in a while, she'd forget, or try to ignore it. Hurt herself a little in the process. The conversation had germinated a suspicion, that her mania and more callous moods stemmed from that frustration. But I didn't say that.

"Yeah..." I was still puzzling out his emotions, I never knew exactly where I stood with Doctor Werneck- I didn't interact with him enough to clarify my power. It made me hesitant, "Heather and Mimi..."

"Hmm... Yes." Doctor Werneck said, glancing down at his papers, "Burnscar has had a rough couple of days." I guessed the papers were reports from the Infirmary. Maybe a summary of Burnscar's condition, or her psychological evaluation. Perhaps it was an assessment of the likelihood of Agent Interjection.

Doctor Werneck was still talking, "Board support for the mentor initiative was low to begin with. Since this last accident a memo has been circulating. It calls for a suspension and reevaluation of the program. I have deffered direct action for the time being."

Elle's reaction was more muted, less involved. I glanced at her. She seemed... bored. The meeting hadn't struck any strong chords with her, and even now she wasn't listening. She was bored- maybe this was all more of the same for her, retreading old ground? She hadn't been surprised, and I couldn't sense any distress at Mimi's exclusion.

Mimi didn't want to hurt anyone, but that didn't matter much. I could feel her power teetering back and forth, always balanced on an edge. That balance required constant upkeep. And when her control failed her, she burnt. Blake's words came to mind, and I still wasn't certain I believed them... How could anyone expect Elle to rein in Mimi? Would they actually do that? It seemed a stretch. Elle had difficulty speaking, even walking from time to time. The idea that a therapist would do that, try and use Elle as a lever against Mimi deliberately sounded surreal. What could she do?

It occurred to me. I didn't know which doctors had set that up. Or which doctors she had in the past. I didn't know enough about them, the rest of the faculty.

"... As of now, it is my recommendation that Labyrinth continue in the program." Werneck continued, "Protocol dictates that Burnscar be evaluated, but I consider suspension to be premature."

"Mimi can do this. She wants to take control of her life, get out of here." I said, and my own voice startled me. I took a deep breath, "She hates it here."

Doctor Yamada looked pained, "It is a precaution. And it's out of our hands, events like patients harming themselves with powers have to go through the PRT board, and it warrants an automatic review."

I thought about that. The outrage slowly simmering in the back of my mind was steadily growing.

"Did that board have anything to say about Elle being used to control Mimi?" I asked.

For a moment, the table was silent.

"Who told you that?" Doctor Werneck said.

I shrugged warily. I didn't want to give Blake away, didn't want to get him in trouble. I was already regretting saying anything, my eyes drifted to the table as I felt them out.

To my dismay I didn't sense surprise from Doctor Yamada. She had known? I considered...

Well, that didn't mean she had a say in the decision. I sensed... Grim determination, resolve, and the warm sentiments I tended to associate with talking to her. Empathy, compassion. Doctor Fox was nervous, twitchy, but also slightly confused, which I guess meant he hadn't known, or at least was not immediately familiar with what I was talking about. Werneck was neither surprised, nor empathetic the way Doctor Yamada was.

I was still having trouble pinning down where he stood.

My mind raced, and I remained sitting silent. It silence stretched on a little too long, and Doctor Werneck cleared his throat, "If there are no other items of concern, we will adjourn?"

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I felt distant, removed from what was happening, like the meeting had flown by while I was not looking. While I was not paying attention. I realized I felt numb. I hardly noticed when Doctor Yamada asked me if I was feeling well, and barely remembered to nod when she reminded me of our next appointment. I felt her worry, but it was distant.

I took Elle's hand and walked out the door. I felt angry, frustrated and helpless.

"Auspice?" I wasn't paying attention, so when Doctor Werneck caught up to us, I jumped.

I'd never spoken at great length with Werneck before, and found myself a little intimidated. He was tall, but so was I, so he didn't tower over me too much.

He spoke from experience, I could tell. His face was lined, not like Doctor Selmy, but the hawkish nose was flanked with a few creases of its own.

His hairline was receding slightly, but he'd probably keep most of it, I guessed. He was younger, much younger than Doctor Selmy, but not a young man... With his severe expression and crossed arms lent a hard front; one far removed from what I was used to, working with Doctor Yamada and Doctor Selmy.

"I wanted to let you know I've noticed your efforts." He said, "Even if it doesn't come across, I want you to understand I am very impressed with the progress you have made."

I blinked at him, "Okay." But, then, I reconsidered, "Elle and Mimi have been trying to put in at least as much effort." I glanced at Elle, still holding my hand, she was listening now too, even if her eyes were a bit vacant. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

He gave me a shrewd look, "That is good to hear. You are used to working with Yamada and Selmy, That is probably fortunate. I don't have the soft touch they do..." He said.

That was when I sensed something, something I never expected to feel from Doctor Werneck. Empathy.

His empathy was not like Doctor Yamada's, warm and full of compassion. It wasn't like Doctor Selmy's either- which was as much a challenge as support, daring you to do better and then helping you do so. Werneck was tightly contained and focused, not an emotional response as much as an intellectual understanding of my condition, a choice to help; more a sense of duty, and commitment. It was so different from the other doctors. I wasn't used to therapists that weren't warm, Doctor Werneck was strange.

I took a deep breath, taking a step back. He was trying. That had to mean something.

"...I don't suppose I could ask you to pass a message on to whoever told you about Burnscar and Labyrinth getting paired up?"

"Suuuure..." I said, tentatively.

Doctor Werneck sighed, exasperated, "I think I know who it is, but his name is beside the point." Doctor Werneck gave me a very knowing look, "Tell him he shouldn't be spreading that around. That information is confidential."

I squinted at him, "But it is true?"

"That happened several years ago. For the record, the Doctors involved have been remanded and blacklisted, and an inquiry was launched."

I lifted my chin, challenging him back, "What about Mimi? Burnscar, whatever. Is she going to be staying with the sponsor program? I liked her, I wanted to work with her."

He leaned back a little, considering, "Loss of control and impulsive risk taking are symptoms of an impending Interjection Event. And, in Burnscar's case, increased oscillation in her emotional state. In my experience, the past few weeks of relative calm are building up to an outburst."

"You didn't answer my question."

I sensed exasperation with my stubbornness and Doctor Werneck sighed, "The program is rooted in older psychiatric practices, in the same vein as a support group, or addiction recovery. Those are rarely enough- parahuman ability is as much an unknown as a studied discipline."

"My professional opinion is that Burnscar's power follows a pattern, one that makes it difficult to curtail by any conventional means. That includes medication, physical therapy, emotional counseling, structured and controlled environments, meditation..." He shook his head, "Most parahumans have at least some drive to use their powers. It takes a great deal of willpower to simply not use them entirely."

I took a deep breath and refused to become angry- I could feel that same impression of duty, a dry, clinical sort of compassion, but his own. There had to be something, Doctor Werneck was right there.

I tried to think back, when he'd first mentioned and explained Interjection Events, Agent Interjections. What they entailed. Bouts of paranoia. Delusions, dissociation...

And violence.

But that couldn't be all there was to it. Could it?

The feelings I had pulled off the doctors throughout the meeting... Concern. Apprehension. They were still worried- afraid, they were afraid of Mimi. Of what she could do.

I... I understood that- I remembered how it had felt, my arm burning, skin peeling back and blackening...

"I'm sorry if I didn't have the answer you wanted." Doctor Werneck said slowly, thoughtfully. And he was sorry, I could feel it.

He glanced at his wristwatch, "I have an appointment in ten minutes. We'll talk again."

My resolve grew brittle, the slightest test would crush it. I dropped my gaze to the carpet in shame. I didn't know what to say, or what to do. I was afraid too- I admitted it quietly. Afraid, and I'd pushed too hard.

Afraid it was my fault that Mimi blew it. Or, almost blew it. It felt like a 'blew it'.

Werneck left, I let him.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Frustration simmered and stewed, just shy of boiling over as I walked through the doors of the exercise room- looking for something- anything, really, to do. To blow it off.

Elle trailed in my wake, I slowed to accommodate her slower pace and it only added to the tension, to the notion I was standing still when I needed to be doing something. Anything.

I felt slow and useless and completely inadequate. I felt like a coward, for not standing my ground and forcing Werneck to listen and talk to me and find a solution- even... even if I had no idea what I could have said, or what he could have realistically done.

Ignoring the exercise machines, I pushed open the big double doors, walking into the gymnasium. I sat Elle down on benches by the wall and raked my hands through my hair.

"What am I going to do?" I asked Elle.

She blinked back at me- this was one of her uncommunicative days, and she hadn't said a word to me or anyone. But I was getting very good at reading her by now.

Elle was concerned, but not afraid... her attention was closely centered on me, and I realized she might have been concerned for me, as opposed to my discussion with Werneck, or the implications of the meeting and the sponsorship program.

"I'll be all right, Elle." I said, "I'm just... I'm supposed to be helping you and Mimi, and... It feels like I'm failing you. Like I'm failing right out of the gate."

I stared at my hands, on her lap, holding hers, "I just expected it to be... I don't know... easier? After fighting that guy..."

I remembered the powerlessness, the stifling fear, and the pain. The sense of the hungry intelligence searching, always searching...

"I thought I'd be able to do this." I said, "And now, it's like... I'm wondering if I made it worse. What am I supposed to do?"

I looked at Elle, and I could sense a complicated mess of guilt, embarrassment, and fear. I tried to puzzle them out, but it was all muffled behind the drifting clouds her power drew across her mind. The indistinct impressions were growing clearer through her fugues, but specifics remained frustratingly out of reach.

I felt detached, hollow again. I... I needed to do something. I shook off the feeling of emptiness, and let go of Elle's hands to stand

There was a rack in the corner with basketballs on it, I picked one up, pausing to probe with my power- returning the elasticity of the rubber, the tension in the ball from the air pressure inside, and the weight relative to my arms. I lifted it and tossed it in the air once, catching it. The range of motion in my arms was highlighted by my power, the friction of my palms and fingers and the surface of the ball returned- a sense of proportion and the force of gravity, inertia and momentum as it clashed.

I looked at the hoop at the far end of the court. After a moment, I bent my knees, and uncoiled, letting the ball go. It bounced off the backboard. I was too angry, I'd put too much force behind it.

The ball bounced, I felt the ball glance off the floor and rebound, and I moved to catch it. I almost saw something in my mind's eye- a premonitory image of the ball's path, a second ahead of where it would be. I shot again, adjusting the force I applied.

I remembered playing here with Heather the one time, feeling a vague impression of her intentions, of her feinting and lunging for the basket. It was like night and day. I wanted to feel satisfied with the improvement, with the progress, of my power going from something abstract and vague to something more concrete. But it felt so hollow. Like, it was beside the point, or not enough.

After the ninth hoop in a row, I dropped the ball to the gymnasium floor, and let it bounce away- still tracking its future path a second ahead of the ball -and took deep breaths, clenching and relaxing my hands. But there was nowhere for the energy to go; I breathed in through my nose, arms so tense that they shook. I walked to the benches and sat, leaning back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling above.

I was a coward. I was powerless. I was at a loss.

It felt claustrophobic, uncomfortable. It reminded me of the restless nights after arriving at Alchemilla. But when I'd fucked up... I'd gotten someone killed. Mimi burning herself wasn't a fuck up. It was stupid.

It felt like this was a fuck up. And I had no idea what to do.

Elle watched from her bench against the wall, staring at me.

I sat down on the gymnasium floor, arms draped over my knees, gazing blankly at the floor between my slippers. Elle and I had the rest of the morning off, but I didn't think I could talk to Heather right now, I was still too angry at her for being so stupid. Nick was still working with his group- they had been more manageable than mine, so far. I considered looking for Charnel, or Blake. That was when the door opened.

I couldn't identify who it was immediately; someone I wasn't very familiar with. But I could feel something from them, a glimmer of recognition.

"Hey."

I looked up. It was Feral.

I'd met her in the Infirmary a few days ago, but my preoccupation with Heather and Mimi's injuries, as well as a brief resurgence in Elle's power (and my own shyness) had prevented us from talking. She was tall, very tall, and the most heavily muscled woman I had ever met. Yet somehow, she still managed to come across as feminine.

Even if I hadn't been sitting on the floor, wallowing at one of my lowest points, Feral would have been intimidating. But she smiled widely and squatted down, with one hand on the floor in front of me.

"Auspice, right? We talked in the infirmary." She offered me her hand, which I shook. Her face was open and honest, and her eyes were solid green, with narrow, slit pupils, they reminded me of a cat' 's proportions were a little unusual, with long limbs that made her look even taller. Her hands were gloved, but the gloves were finger-less and with good reason, each ended in claws that made her fingers look even longer.

"Hello."

"So here I was checking out my old haunts, and I run into you..." She peered closely at me, her nostrils flared, sniffing, "You holding up all right, kiddo?"

That struck a chord in me. I couldn't be certain it if it was simply how emotionally raw and drained I felt, the stress of the past few days catching up with me all at once, or the reminder of dad- but that hit me hard, harder than it should have. The last bit of strength deserted me and my face crumpled.

"Oh, oh, hey, kid!" Feral exclaimed. I cried- It wasn't very hard or very long, but Feral looked like she might have a panic attack, "It's okay, it's, um- stop? Please?"

"I'm sorry," I sniffled, "I'm sorry, it's- it's just... Dad used to call me That."

"Deep breaths." Feral cautioned.

It was good advice, I did so, deep and even counting off five seconds pulling in and five seconds letting them out. Nice and slow. The tension left my shoulders and the tightness in my fists, I opened my hands and lay them on the floor.

"... You need me to get anyone? You need your meds?" Feral asked, a hair calmer now that I had a grip on myself, but still kind of anxious.

I shook my head and she leaned back a little, "...Are you okay?" she asked, and blinked, looking over at Elle, who had wandered over. Her face was blank, swaying where she stood. Elle plopped down on the floor beside me. I could feel her concern. Got a sense of the solidarity she was trying to convey, even if her face was blank.

I reached up and hugged Elle around the shoulder with one arm, I could feel her gratitude, empathy, reciprocation, through her fugue and the distance and the numbness, "Yeah, that's... Elle's like that, she's fine."

Feral looked at Elle a moment, then back at me, "Is it something you want to talk about?"

Not really... "You lived here, right?" I asked.

"Well, yeah..." Feral said.

"Did you ever work with Doctor Werneck?"

Recognition, faint, but Feral was slowly growing clearer. She knew Werneck, "I've met Doc Werneck. Yeah, why?"

"You remember in the infirmary?"

"Yeah?"

"... You remember how Burnscar got hurt?"

"Yeah, I remember."

I sighed, "Werneck thinks Mimi's headed for an Interjection Event. He took her off the sponsor program and I think it might end up being permanent."

Feral was quiet for a moment, then ran a hand through the loose hair around her forehead before she glanced at Elle, "You too, sweetheart?" Elle stared back and Feral smiled, "Cool."

She looked at me again, and tilted her head, "He can be a little difficult to work with. He doesn't do people real good, ya know? Staff or patients, doesn't really care about either. A real prick, when he wants to be." She grinned for me.

I coughed- barked a laugh, but sobered quickly, it wasn't funny that Mimi's future was so uncertain. Doctor Werneck had been... not personable, and not pleasant to talk with. Sympathetic, I think, though not the way Doctor Yamada and Doctor Selmy were. The idea of him being one of the doctors that decided if Mimi was going to stay in the program or be sent back to medium security was distressing. I just couldn't reconcile the idea, of someone that dispassionate and dry. But the contradiction- I had felt something from him, sympathy for his patients. Even if it wasn't the same kind. I tried to reconcile the two, the things I had felt from him and what I had seen from him.

Feral lifted one hand to her face, idly scratching her cheek with one of those claws. I could feel rumination from her, contemplation, I think she was more aware of what I was thinking about than I knew.

"He's a brilliant doctor, you know. And I guess being prickly isn't the worst thing to be."

"He doesn't really care about much." I said, "That's what I felt when I got here, the first time I talked to him. He was really interested in my power, in learning about powers, but not really about the other patients."

Feral gave me a long look, "Werneck's a dick, but... He doesn't need to come up here and work with patients, he does it because his work has a purpose, you know?"

"Yeah, I felt something like that... But, he doesn't really care. Or.. I don't know. He wasn't sympathetic, not for Mimi." I frowned, "How can someone want to help us here, without being sympathetic?"

Feral's eyes bored into me, then started to talk. She spoke slowly, and I couldn't quite tease out what emotion she was feeling. Except it was a lot. "Not everyone dreams of being something... A-a household name or whatever. Maybe we can't all change the world. We just gotta do good. No one's going to sing Doc Werneck's praises when he's gone. But he's probably saved more lives than I ever will..."

I blinked at Feral, an actual hero in the Protectorate. I had looked her history up, after we met in the infirmary. A high-tier regenerator, in the top ten percentile for Brutes with a handful of minor powers backing her durability up. Superhuman senses, night vision, stuff like that. Her regeneration was so potent it bordered on a Breaker ability, and she could augment it further by directing it for a short duration, 'sprinting' her healing. She had participated in Endbringer fights and a number of high-profile villain battles, and led a team out in New York and once out in Boston. She was a big deal and saying Werneck had saved more lives than her boggled me.

"More people than you?"

"Yeah. Werneck's a big parahuman studies guy, he didn't start out at Alchemilla. He started out in the Boston Cornell PRC faculty, he asked for a transfer out here because he thought he'd be able to do more good if he studied parahuman medical and psychological issues in person."

"Anyway, he helped develop a bunch of meds- specialized stuff for parahumans. The stuff he's worked on is used all around the world, he helps thousands of people every year. He's been involved in most of the success stories coming out of Alchemilla. He helped work on the power suppressants they use in the PRT, you know? That saves lives on both side of the law all the time." I stared at her, and all I could do was shake my head. Feral shrugged, "He's a great man. He's just more concerned with doing things, than how he does them."

I looked back down at my slippers, face burning with something. Shame? I didn't know what to feel. Doctor Werneck rubbed me every wrong way, but I'd known there was more to it. Hearing someone else say it too just made it worse.

I hated myself for wanting to hate Doctor Werneck, and I was ashamed because I knew better. I did.

"Hey." Feral reached out and- she booped me on the nose! My eyes crossed at the claw resting on the tip of my nose, "You're all wound up, it's more than Werneck being a dick, huh?"

I leaned back and Feral withdrew her finger. I felt Elle laughing at me, and I gave her a narrow-eyed glare. Elle stared back blankly, without any expression whatsoever.

Shut up, I know you're laughing!

"I'm supposed to be helping Mimi and Elle..." I gave Elle's shoulder a little squeeze, and I felt an answering pulse of warm sentiment, "They both want to leave medium security. And I... I wanted to help them. I thought I'd really like doing it. Having that... It felt like... Like I was working towards something, like we're working toward something more important than just being here and getting better."

"But, I think I wanted it too much." I said, quietly, "I wanted it too much."

Feral gave a commiserating hum, and Elle's gaze wandered. "You want to know something?"

"What?"

"Back when I was here in Alchemilla, it was a lot like it is now. Everything was pretty chaotic... And... You know, dad always says, Alchemilla makes him cynical."

"Yeah." Doctor Werneck had certainly been pessimistic about Mimi and her chances. Doctor Selmy, and Doctor Yamada had been supportive- but that didn't mean Mimi's chances were good. I remembered what Werneck had said. Parahuman inability to remain on standby...

I wondered if my power could pick up on that? I'd never tried differentiating the power and the parahuman specifically. While I had picked up on Elle and Mimi's mental interference, their fugues... But there was a layer there I hadn't attempted before.

"... You know, if you'd like, I can find out if I can work with her." Feral said, "I mean, everything's pretty up in the air right now, but I'm basically indestructible, it'd take something a lot quicker than fire to hurt me permanently."

"She's already working with me, though." Would that work, I knew there was a limit to available staff.

Feral shrugged, "If they're that worried about someone flipping out, the board'll probably be looking for an excuse to stick her with someone a little more durable any way."

That didn't sound exactly reassuring, but I could feel her intentions, all earnest good will. I wondered if it was something involved with her power- the throwaway attitude towards injury and her own life. I hadn't met any other high-level brutes, I wondered if that was typical...

Still...

"Thanks."

Feral gave me a smile, and stood, "You'll make it. Don't worry about it too much, that's my job."

She looked around, "Hey, I was waiting for someone, if she pokes in later, could you let her know I showed up?"

"Uh, sure..."

She ruffled my hair, and walked out the door.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I bounced a basketball against the wall and caught it, thinking about what Feral had said. About Werneck and the power he had over the sponsor program and how much I wanted it to work.

Feral thought Werneck knew what he was doing, knew what he was saying about powers. But, also, that he wanted to help us. To help Mimi.

Mimi had been here for years, and when I'd met her she had lost hope that she would get out of Alchemilla. That hope had returned, a little, lately. I desperately wanted to nurture it in her.

And now, maybe it actually was impossible for her to leave. Maybe her power really was too dangerous. But she couldn't remain here either.

She couldn't use her powers outside Alchemilla and her powers wouldn't let her remain idle.

They needed to be used, they couldn't remain on standby.

What if that was a good thing? If I could find something to direct Mimi to use them for... "I need to find something that she could use her powers in, something that satisfies her power's requirements for action..." I muttered.

Elle blinked at me from the floor where she sat. I turned and looked at her, "Elle, I've got to find a way for Mimi to use her powers, something that prevents her from having big blowups."

Elle stared back at me. I sensed bewilderment, incredulity, humor.

"Tall order, huh?"

That was definitely agreement I felt. Elle tilted her head, and a handful of flowers sprouted from the floor around her. I sat down and considered the sprouting flowers. On an Impulse I rolled the ball across the Court to Elle, where it bumped against her knees.

Elle looked down at it, then slowly reached out and picked it up.

"Right here, Elle!" I said holding out my hands, like I expected an energetic mid court pass.

"Mimi, she's bad." Elle said solemnly.

My hands drooped to the floor. "What do you mean?"

Elle blinked back at me. She was there, I could feel her mind. It was intact behind the fugue of her power, that disconnect. But she wasn't there enough...

"Do you mean Mimi is bad? Mimi's power is bad?"

"Mimi... She's bad." Elle struggled, "She'll.. burn you again."

The look I gave Elle was sharp, I could sense her worry, fear concern. "She might, but she's my friend, same as you."

"She'll hurt you..." Elle said, struggling, "Always hurts everyone."

"I've hurt people too." I said, softly, "That's no reason to give up on her. What's gotten into you? She's your friend too, isn't she?"

Elle regarded me with a blank expression, but dubious sentiment, before awkwardly kind of... dropping the ball in my direction. It bounced once and rolled to me, slightly off-center, and I caught it in one hand and rolled it back.

Why had anyone thought Elle could rein Mimi in? Elle could barely handle herself, let alone Mimi's intense extremes.

Though... I wanted to try. She was frightening, but I remembered her in the cafeteria. Sad, lonely, and afraid. Maybe it wasn't fair to expect the doctors and nurses here at Alchemilla to be able to rein in Mimi either? Elle herself was dangerous in her own way. I'd seen what both of them could do without even intending to. I wondered who had fielded the idea.

I sighed sadly, the entire situation was just...

"Hey!"

I jumped. Elle's eyes went wide and she tipped over backwards with a startled squeak. A girl's head was sticking out of the floor between us. I leaned back, almost tipping over like Elle, and the ball fell to the floor, rolling through the girl's head.

"Hey, yeah, you. Sorry, do you know if Feral passed through here? There's a nurse in the other room, I don't want to peek in there."

I blinked at her. She was... "Gretchen." I remembered. I'd seen her just after Benny died. Short hair, red, like Emma...

"Yeah, or Tulpa." She leaned forward, and folded her arms on the floor, the rest of her body still hidden in the floor like she was in a pool. It was a little odd to see, how casual she was. But, then, I'd seen stranger by this point.

"Tay..." I glanced up, Elle was on her hands and knees, carefully and laboriously pulling herself up with great effort, her brow furrowed in concentration. She made it to a sitting position, before she stalled while trying to pull her feet under her.

"Come on Elle..." I stood and walked to Elle's side, stepping around the head and arms in the floor.

"Sorry about that," Gretchen said, now floating a few feet above the gym floor. Her hair was longer now, and floated in the hair above her. Her scrubs morphed, changed color. They became a black and pink bodysuit with a flower motif and a tree print up one leg.

"Is that your hero costume?"

Gretchen - Tulpa -shrugged, "I like to experiment with looking different. It gets boring around here..."

It was a little strange, looking at her. I couldn't really sense her. I hadn't been in the right frame of mind to poke or wonder when I'd seen her before, but I couldn't sense her properly. Usually someone, even a new someone standing (floating?) this close to me would be giving me something to work with. Maybe an impression of emotion... Or something about the nature of her power. But it was like she was transparent.

I could sense something, but it was the opposite of presence, like a negative space.

"But, seriously, did Feral come down here? We were going to meet up. I was running late." Gretchen said.

"She was here a few minutes ago. She might still be in the machine room."

"Thanks!" Gretchen said, "Sorry for making you fall over-

Elle stuck out her tongue. Gretchen stopped, and behind the domino mask her eyes narrowed reproachfully.

I sighed. "Elle, please, be polite."

Gretchen shook her head, "Anyway, sorry. I'll see you around."

She drifted up, up through the ceiling. Elle and I watched her go, Elle faintly vindictive, for my part I was left faintly mystified.

"Hey, Elle," I grabbed her hand, "Come on."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The machine room was empty- I pushed through the doors with Elle in tow, looking for Gretchen. Feral was gone, and as I looked, Gretchen had vanished as well.

I sighed.

Well, I felt a little better now, but I still didn't know what to do. Didn't know what I'd do. I felt like I'd been crying, hard, and now I was all drained out...

The bulletin board set against the wall was still covered in fliers. It was full and cluttered. I wandered over and started to leaf through.

There was the yoga. There was also a flyer for a fundraiser to get a pool built.

And the play- Romeo and Juliet.

There was a post for Protectorate ride-alongs every month. It looked like I'd missed this month's, it was only open to patients with filed approval, so I probably wouldn't have been able to any way- I was still in my trial period, I think. But it was good to know for next time. Another post offered monetary incentives for Thinkers and Tinkers that had been cleared to use their powers. Something about analysis and consultation support roles...

I made a note of those for later, that definitely sounded interesting.

I looked back at the other flyers.

"Hmm." I'd never seen it, not as a play, or even a movie or adaptation. Romeo and Juliet was one of those things that was just there, people... They knew it, but they didn't really seek it out. "... A play... It does say to ask Doctor Widmark for more information." I said.

I could feel a flicker of interest from Elle, she turned to look at me, "A play... Wh... When?"

"Three weeks from now." I said, reading.

"Can anyone... Anyone do it?" Elle said.

"Be in the play? I think so."

Elle grabbed my sleeve and started bouncing in place, then she let go of my sleeve and grabbed both my cheeks and smooshed my face in excitement.

"Ow, Elle." I complained.

Prying Elle's hands off my face took a little more wrangling than I expected, and keeping them off took holding onto them; I gave Elle's fingers a quick squeeze and Elle squeezed back, a little smile on her face.

She was really excited, and it was infectious. Theater had never been something I had any investment in, and I'd never met someone who reacted that strongly to the idea of being in a play. But maybe if I was stuck in medium security for a year or two I'd appreciate what it meant to her more.

"You really want to be in the play, don't you?"

Elle opened her mouth, struggling, "Y-yes..." She said at last. She stared at the flyer, glowing with a medley of pleasant emotions.

Hmm.

An idea had sprouted and begun to take root.


	26. Eyas 4-2

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Well, there are some activities that the staff have on rotation." Nick said, "Seasonal stuff. The, uh, theater stuff is more Doctor Widmark's thing. He's the patient events coordinator. I don't know much about it. I know there were some Halloween stuff that got canceled, because of all the damages. And, uh, everything that happened with Labyrinth."

He eyed Elle nervously, but Elle said nothing. I didn't think she was offended, "There was a play a while back, I think it was Our Town? I don't know much about theater."

"Have you been in any of the plays here?" I asked, looking from Nick to Heather.

Heather shook her head, "No, never really interested. I've heard they never go well..." She shrugged. Nick shook his head too.

The cafeteria was half empty- dinner was long over. The cafeteria staff was busy cleaning the food line and tables. One was occupied with a mop and mop bucket, cleaning up a spill that had gotten out of hand- by which I mean it got thrown all over the wall. Heather said it was nothing, I ought to see the next taco night.

"Well, Elle definitely wants to give it a try," I said.

Mimi smiled a little at that, patting Elle's shoulder tentatively.

"Eh." Heather made a sour face, "I thought that I didn't have to deal with stuff like school plays after I got powers. It was fun in the Wards, at least we got to do stuff," she sulked, "What for? Why're you so set on this?"

"Mimi and Elle need to get out of here," I said, and turned to include both of them, "It's not helping them, staying here. Not anymore. So we're working our way out."

I turned back to Heather, "I need you and Nick to help me."

Heather raised an eyebrow, and gave Mimi a side-eye, just a moment. "Yeah, okay, why do you want to be in some play though?"

"We need some victories, something we can say went well. This is something we can do now, and we can build on it."

"Come on Heather," Nick said. He wasn't glowing the way Elle was, but he was mildly interested, "Give it a try."

That was good, Nick being on board meant I had an ally in this. I would need every ally I could get.

Because I was going to get Elle, and Mimi, into that play. What they needed was a victory- a real victory, that would be a foundation. Impetus for Elle and Mimi to rally on. And it was going to be great.

Something small, something doable. Small things got done. Big things intimidated you.

I kept repeating the mantra. I would start somewhere smaller and move up.

After the breakdown in Mimi's power therepy session, morale had dipped to an all-time low. But moods had improved over the past few days now it felt like that fug was gone, and it was replaced with energy. I felt more awake than I had in days, more focused and present. I could sense it in everyone. It had to be a good sign.

"Oh, I'm going to be there," Heather said, "I'm betting it'll be a thirty car pileup. It's gonna be great!"

"We'll do fine, right Taylor?" Mimi asked, weakly. Her voice wavered, the self confidence of a kicked puppy left out in the rain. Her emotions were muddled. Fear, indecision, wistfulness, want.

Elle herself was also nervous. Eager, but nervous.

"Of course."

And just like that, the fear was gone.

Mimi was simple and uncomplicated, straightforward, and her faith in me was absolute. I was a little surprised, and... humbled. Did I really deserve all that?

"Thanks, Mimi," I said, "So we just find Doctor Widmark?" A quick look to Nick to confirm.

"Tomorrow, I think she's gone home today."

"Pfhssss." Heather laughed, "Fine. I'll be there. Hell, I'll even go though all the rehearsal shit. I want to be there the whole way. That way I'm right there when all hell breaks loose!"

"Hell... Loose." Elle said absently. Mimi frowned.

I leaned back, that was good. I took a deep breath. Getting through the play was doable, I was pretty sure. Victory would be everyone smiling at the end of it all. They'd all look back on it and see they'd come further. And then they'd keep moving forward.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Mimi's meds made her dizzy and sick today, she could hardly stand; and Elle fell asleep. They both turned in after breakfast, which left me feeling both far more level without the constant presence of their nausea and vertigo, but also a little disappointing. I had been hoping to make plans and talk to Doctor Widmark with them.

Heather and Nick left for a group session, but with Mimi and Elle gone that left me without much to do. There were some classes, but I couldn't find it in me to try cooking. I wandered.

I felt... Restless.

A couple patients had a potted garden in one room behind a big picture window. It was a new thing, another experiment by one of the doctors, shelves full of pots and bright lights for each. I stopped to look. Each patient had a large planter urn of their own, and a couple plants. Most of them were just tiny shoots right now. I'd never tried gardening, maybe I could ask to try gardening too...

As I watched, a girl rose through the floor, flitted across the room, and through a wall.

Gretchen.

I still couldn't sense anything from her, but I knew the floor layout- even with the renovations. It was a construct of my prescience, and the gaps were only a little dimmer. But I could still sense a semblence of the changes- curious. I started walking to the fork in the hall, trying to catch up. Wait, what was in that direction anyway? The cafeteria, the gym...

I turned the corner and kept walking. Past the benches outside the gym, and then past the cafeteria.

Eyes closed, I could feel the people around me, in the rooms, and the spotlights of attention from the security cameras, but not Gretchen. There was nothing to sense. After a minute of fruitless walking I had almost given up, when I found her.

I saw Feral first, standing beside one of the vending machines. She was hovering, along with Gretchen, holding what looked like a one-sided conversation with Charnel, where she sat with her hands folded on her lap on one of the benches.

Gretchen was 'standing' on the floor, but I couldn't feel her. Her projection looked like any other patient now, blues scrubs and short brown hair.

Charnel didn't look concerned with the attention. Mostly, it was the strangeness of seeing someone talking to Charnel that caught my attention. It was rare to see Charnel talking, she never sought out anyone, not really. She looked... serene, blank. It had been so long since we'd spoken, out in the courtyard ruin under the basin of Labyrinth's crater, when she told me about power and losing humanity.

A spark of curiosity reeled me in, and Feral drew back a little, giving me some space in the huddle.

"Hey!" Feral said brightly. Gretchen floated a bit off the floor. Charnel blinked wordlessly.

"Floor, Gretchen." Feral said.

"Oh, yeah." Gretchen's feet met the floor again.

I swivled curiously from Charnel to Feral, "You know each other?"

"I, uh, kinda got called in to help with her when she first arrived." Feral said, "It's a long story."

Huh. Charnel tended to blend into the background, I actually didn't know why she was a resident at Alchemilla- beyond her having orange scrubs I didn't even know her powers. I guessed it was a dangerous power, since she seemed to be here willingly? She reminded me a little of Benny. She had that same strange, almost childlike aspect... Though, I wondered why Feral had been needed.

Charnel blinked languidly back at me.

I remembered the little doll-person, Marionette, with her arms around my throat. My power hinting at her nature, her construction. She had been similar to Charnel. I was positive that I hadn't imagined it, that strange intermix, blended polymer of organic and inorganic.

I am not a person. Not one of us are people, here.

Swords and knives...

"Where you headed?" Feral asked.

"I was... Actually, maybe you could help me? I had some questions about the Ward play, and I wanted to ask about the patient garden." I asked, "I don't know who to ask about getting a planter."

Feral looked thoughtful, "They have a garden now?"

"Just a bunch of pots in a room." Gretchen said, unimpressed. Well, she wasn't wrong. "It's a new thing."

Feral thought about that a moment, then shrugged, "I can ask. Wanna get on back to scaring people from the vents, girl?"

Gretchen grinned, "Nah, I gotta get back to work too. Got juicy gossip to pass on. See you later!" She stepped forward and vanished through the floor as easily as a swimmer stepping into a pool. I stared at the floor where she'd vanished, wondering.

"Does she just... Move around?" I made a vague gesture to the floor, still a little mystified.

"The docs haven't figured out a way to stop her yet." Feral said, "Anyway. Let's find the duty nurse. You mind if Charnel here tags along?"

"Uh, no. Sure, go ahead."

Charnel stood, obediently. Feral started walking and I had to trot to keep up with her long stride, she was so tall.

"They didn't have anything like that when I was here, you know? I think they had one, but it got destroyed or something." She said, "I guess they decided a big garden wouldn't work, so they're trying flowerpots." She said, and glanced back at me, "You like to garden before you ended up here?"

"Uh, no. I just wanted to try it."

"Yeah, you get antsy staring at the same four walls for days. I tried some new stuff when I got here too. Learned to read and stuff."

"... Really?" She had been illiterate?

"No joke." Feral flashed me a grin that was all teeth, "Learned to read, write, do math. All of that. Doc Selmy taught me."

Pride and respect shone from her like a beacon.

"... And you help out here?" I said, it was more a question.

"Yeah. I help out with some of the special cases." Feral nudged Charnel's shoulder gently, "Little stuff too. Like looking out for some of the rowdy ones. Give them an outlet if they need it, just a bit."

That sounded suspiciously like what she was trying to say was 'give them someone to punch', without actually saying it.

We started to pass more people. Feral threaded her way down the hall unerringly, to the nursing station. There was a short line, two doctors, with half a dozen Kudzu clones in tow. Some patients. It felt busier than usual, I'd never seen an actual line.

Feral waited behind the Kudzu clones, striking up a conversation with one.

Waiting while Feral talked- that felt familiar, like hanging around while Emma talked to new friends she'd just made. But Charnel was'nt even breathing, and perfectly, unnaturally, still; it gave me an itch, I wanted to do something. Say something, anything. And that curiosity that had niggled at the back of my mind ever since I'd used my power on her and felt that strange duality.

A doctor walked briskly past, clipboard in hand. A mote of brittle urgency. A boy was wheeled past in a chair, hands fisted in his hair, mumbling to himself. Confusion and anger, to my senses.

I sighed.

The line moved. One of the nurses present looked up at Feral and immediately brightened.

"Feral, what can I do for you?"

"Got a gardener here, what do we need to fill out to get her planting?"

The Nurse and Feral started chatting like old friends. Feral was completely in her element, it reminded me more and more of Emma- how easy it was for her to just talk. Emma. When was the last time I'd written Emma? I hadn't even checked my email in a couple days... I hadn't written Emma or Mom in a while, and the realization ached. An uncomfortable knot of guilt twisted in my gut, along with a sliver of some other emotion. Fear, maybe?

Of... Of what?

I was afraid. Just a little. Was it because I was pretty sure where the jealousy had come from? Emma had been such a constant in my life, it was so strange to find something like that.

"You know what you want to plant?"

"Hm?" I came back to myself with a jolt and found Feral and the nurse looking at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry," I felt my face heat, "I wasn't listening."

"That's all right." The nurse said. She was a bubbly girl of about twenty, with curly black hair, her name tag read 'Wrightly', "Did you know what you wanted to try planting? We have veggies and flowers."

I didn't really have a preference. It was just... Something to do in the mornings after Mimi and Elle got their medication, while they were still feeling off. Or, like now, when it made them sick.

"Just, anything really."

Feral tapped her chin, "You got lavender?"

"We have lavender. It's very relaxing and pleasent. And there's these pretty flowers Johnny-Jump-Ups, those are a kind of violet I think, and St John's Wort- the seeds were donated by a flower enthusiast. And we have marigolds."

I shrugged, but I also frowned. I had powers. Something I had always thought would mean a grand, glamorous change in my life. Instead, gardening. I was supposed to be excited about gardening. It left a sour taste in the back of my throat.

"I'll put you down for Lavender, the Jump-Ups." Wrightly said, blithely ignorant of my internal disappointment. "I'll see if there are any more planters in stock!"

"What about you, Char? Since we're here."

Charnel, almost forgotten in the bustle, slowly blinked back at Feral's wide grin, "I would like to plant some flowers too." She said very seriously.

While Wrightly leafed through a binder, Feral leaned back on the counter. I looked down at the floor, thinking. Thoughts of Alexandria, Chevalier, Revel, and other great Protectorate heroes were cut short when I felt her attention shift back to me like a spotlight.

"You think you can use your power on plants?"

I stared a moment, "I... I've never tried. I didn't have a chance to really use my power outside before." There had been Labyrinth's world, but it had resisted my power. Its plants had not been 'real'.

Or... Wait. Was that the right way to put it? I considered that. Labyrinth's worlds, and all they summoned evaded me initially, but why was it that I could read some things and not others? Was it that her worlds counted as far away, as... As something taken from somewhere else? I remembered the sensation, of overlay, of two places inhabiting the same space. Was that why her power was difficult to read, because it didn't count as 'nearby'? Was I able to sense it after touching her, because I was familiar with her power, or her and her power through her?

I followed the thought further, would that allow me to read Gretchen's power? Were there others that followed a similar mechanic? Mimi's power felt similar, but it seemed to be moving energy to and from her instead. Shunting it off or pouring it in, like a valve.

"You space out a lot, huh?"

I shrugged slightly, "You asked a good question, I was thinking about it. And some other stuff." I said, "My power interacts strangely with some stuff, but that's usually just powers. I've never tried plants."

Feral nodded, she looked thoughtful, "Anything from mine?"

I hadn't had much contact with Feral, I stopped to concentrate. I was getting... something. Not a lot, I hadn't spent much time around her, but it did feel...

"It's like... A reservoir. You have a pool of resources, energy that make your cells divide more quickly. Makes your cells... Better? Makes you heal better?"

I could sense more than I expected, but that still wasn't much.

"It might help if I touch you. Uh, shake?" I held out my hand, and tried to smile.

Feral looked at my hand, a beat of hesitation- just a moment. I felt... I felt her anxiety? Consternation? I guessed that asking if I could use my power on her was a minor faux pas. Maybe like reading over someone's shoulder? Invading their personal space? But, I was pretty sure it was better than not asking at all. It was something anyway. Every time I'd used my power directly on someone before, it had been an emergency.

I wilted a little. Feral hesitated, and then she took my hand.

What I felt now... There was a potent element of energy. A... Current, through her body? Pooling and accumulating, infusing her. Her power altered the speed that cells replicated on, and... corrected mistakes? Streamlined and empowered the process? There might have been more. It was hard to tell.

I think her super senses might be tied to the same mechanic. It was, well, actually fascinating. I tried to imagine the mechanics involved. It kind of reminded me of Wine, but more concrete. The rules were less flexible.

I scratched my head, "It makes your cells better, but there's more to it? I don't know. They feel... Interchangeable, like their parts fit into each other, but I don't know what that means." I thought about that, "I think the pool I'm sensing is tied to your ability to enhance your healing? I know you can do that."

Feral blinked at me slowly, "Huh. That's pretty cool. It's like, a power sense limited by touch."

"Just touch and time." I replied, "The more familiar I am with someone or something, the more accurate I am, and the further away I can sense it." I shrugged.

To my right, Charnel stood silently, watching.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

My planter was small and brown, and sitting in front of it with the dirt on my hands and a bag of soil sitting on the floor, I felt dissatisfied.

The soil was a new experience. Organic sediment, trace quantities of minerals, clay, sand, and tiny fragments of rock. It was an unfamiliar stimulus. Kind of like what I sensed from food, or the contents of my stomach after eating that one time when I was curious. I was more practiced tuning those sensations out, ignoring them.

But it didn't satisfy that nagging lack of fulfillment.

"Here are your seeds." Nurse Wrightly chirped, handing me two little packets of seeds.

I shook one out, into my palm, four little seeds, and I paused to feel them out. The husk surrounding the meat, and in it, the tiny germ that was the actual plant inside the shell. It was remarkably simple, I could feel my power open up and grasp it almost entirely. And yet, there was a complexity underlying the simple system.

I tried to push deeper, but my power remained vague, I glared down at the seeds. More frustration.

"Go on." Wrightly urged.

I tuck the seeds in my dirt, covered them over. Then I did the same with the second set. I toyed with the idea of maybe pulling the seeds out and inspecting them as they germinated, but that would kill them. It reminded me of the first time I'd tried raising seeds for some middle school project or another. The initial enthusiasm replaced by boredom, and then disinterest over two weeks of staring at inert dirt in a cup.

It was... Not satisfying.

"Kinda disappointed?" Feral asked.

"Yeah, I guess." the general sense of dissatisfaction simmered, and I didn't try to fool her. With her nose, I guessed it was probably pointless anyway.

"Never gardened myself. It might be more interesting once you've got something green above the surface?" She scratched her chin absently.

"...Maybe." I sighed.

Feral blew out her cheeks in a huff, "Well, it's not nothing."

There was a set of sinks along the wall by the door. Along with locked cabinets of gardening supplies. The was a security camera over the door, angled to cover all three. Standing under it was a little uncomfortable, like standing under a bright spotlight.

An electrical buzz in my ear warned me-

Alchemilla has a long and storied history of rehabilitating violent offenders within its maximum security confinement center, the equivalent of a supermax federal prison

The PA cheerily chimed overhead. Huh. That, the warning, that was new.

I washed my hands, and watered my pot of dirt. Then I watched as Charnel patted out her own planter, very solemnly and seriously. The segments of her hands caught dirt in the joints.

Feral stood between us along with nurse Wrightly.

A couple patients occupied the gardening room with us, the boy in the wheelchair I had seen outside, off by the furthest wall with a staff member quietly reading to him from a book. In the corner, pulled tightly in on herself, Solace hugging her arms with gaze firmly locked on her knees and breathing slow and careful. A nurse was minding her, and I could hear them quietly talking.

"There's too many people out there." Solace said miserably, in a tone I would not have heard before I learned to pick out voices from echoes.

She was on the edge of a panic attack. Wrightly bustled off to Solace's side, to try and soothe the poor girl.

We were standing by the sinks. I was drying my hands, Charnel holding her hands in the water, watching the stream as it ran off the tap and over her fingers. A strange, sentimental, reflective emotion suffused her, but her expression was unreadable, like a stone pillar.

I tried to catalog what I knew of Charnel, Blake had said she'd been here longer than most... But he never actually said she'd been here longer than he had... So I guessed she must have come in around the time he had, maybe a year or two after.

"Hey, Charnel, how long have you been here?"

She blinked, turning to look at me, "Eight years." she said simply.

"A bit after I got out." Feral added.

Eight years. She had been here eight years, twice as long as Mimi. I peered closely at her, but Charnel was a sphinx, her face was blank and emotionless, and betrayed no emotion I could name. I probed with my power- and, having touched her before, I thought I could sense something of the strange dual structure of her flesh, interwoven. Flesh and that ceramic mesh...

I blinked, refocusing, looking back up at Charnel thoughtfully as she blinked placidly back at me. The water continued to run away inside the sink.

"How did you come to Alchemilla?" I asked without thinking. Oh, my big mouth. Immediately dozens of scenarios sprang to mind, of reasons she wouldn't want to talk about it. Each more horrible than the last.

Feral tensed a bit, and from the sharpening in the attention, a tight beam of intellect that jumped from me to Charnel, I guessed she... Did she know?

Did she not know?

Charnel blinked at me, and leaned away from me slightly, the closest to emoting I had ever seen from her.

"I came to Alchemilla when the Professor was captured." She said.

"The Professor?"

"Yes, I was still inert." Charnel continued. She reached out and turned of the tap. "I was still confined, and I was captured with the Professor's laboratory."

Charnel dried her hands slowly, then stood there silently. The moment drew on, silent except for the quiet whimpers of Solace, curled in the far corner of the garden room, hugging her knees- until I realized Charnel was waiting to leave. We filed out, Feral in front, Charnel and I following obediently. I hunched my shoulders, trying to rub out the goosebumps on my arms.

What happened to her?

It chilled me, thinking about the extensive, invasive changes. The alterations. What kinds of surgeries that would be needed to do something like that to someone. And then, it froze me, thinking about who must have done it. Charnel had said 'Professor'. She had also said he had been captured. Doctor Bonesaw was still free, last I'd heard her menagerie had been running loose close to the Michigan Crater. Speculation had it she was attempting to capture the next parahuman it claimed.

She was the only Tinker I'd imagine changing someone so profoundly. But if it wasn't her, then there had been someone else, someone equally depraved, someone as powerful. Was it someone new? Maybe someone caught before they could do much? Before they became famous? But Charnel didn't look like one of Doctor Bonesaw's earlier experiments, all cut apart and stitched back together wrong. She looked like something put together with more care than that. I tried to imagine another Tinker that could do that, and the only one that came to mind might have been Dragon, but she was a hero and she didn't do biological tech much. Maybe Blasto? Had he been captured? There was a hero called Hazmat that worked with microscopic life...

Feral was walking slowly, and I turned my power to her. She was pensive, reflective, thoughtful now. Did she know the whole story? Or was this something new for her as well?

There was a brief disturbance, a patient in blue, a woman I'd never met stopped me, patting my shoulder insistently and asking me over and over again.

"Please, do you think I'm pretty?"

I took her hands and stopped them from patting me down, "You look very pretty." I assured her several times.

The woman deflated, relived; her eyes went glassy and moist, "T-thank you."

Immediately, she questioned Feral. Charnel also answered her plea, but she was wooden enough it was almost funny. She wandered off down the hall, muttering to herself and sniffling.

There was... I could feel some kind of feedback loop from her. A mania. But she was gone before I could tease anything more out.

I wanted to be frustrated, but mostly I just felt tired by that point. Tired and a little confused.

We started walking again, back towards the common rooms, the cafeteria and the gym. The sun room was empty, Feral sat us down at the couches and told me to stay put. She stepped away to talk to a nurse, I caught a whispered 'Narcissa' before they moved too far away for even my hearing to pick anything out. Which left me feeling awkward and antsy. I was still intimidated by Charnel, but I was also curious. And, maybe a bit bored. It itched.

"So, um." I started awkwardly, lost my voice. I coughed and tried again, "Do you know why, he, that Professor, um... did all that to you?"

"The Professor did not tell me what he intended. I was brought here because I am like most of these here." Charnel had turned her head to study me, her face as expressionless as a statue. She spoke quietly, evenly. "We are discarded."

I drew in a deep breath, a steadying breath, and imagined Doctor Yamada was here, or Doctor Selmy.

"That... That thinking seems counter-intuitive. How can you- any of us- get better unless we learn to live with our powers? People are born with talents, and weaknesses, but what they do with them is up to them, not the talent. Powers change what we have, not what we are."

She blinked, long and slowly, "It is strange. It is a strange thing to want to do, to come here. To learn here. To think that." She said at last, "The doctor that talks to me, he tells me that this is a place to heal, in body and in mind. Does it... Sadden you?"

"What?"

"Does it sadden you, to see them? To see them working, at this endless task? They are meant to fail. Their enemy is known only by the wounds it leaves behind, and the perversion of what was before it. A shadow lacking the substance but holding the shape that casts it. They are ignorant, they will fail."

I took a deep breath, parsing what I could from the riddles. Why did she have to talk in circles like that? Was it part of some condition? I tried to remember if I'd ever heard of anything like it- before shaking my head and concentrating on what was important in all that mess, "I can't believe that."

Charnel tilts her head, "You are like them, the kind people that seek to heal the ones that are hurt, and us. They do not understand what causes it- the things that are precious, and the things that are not; things that must not break, and things that may. You ask questions, but do not understand the answers. Or, maybe you do not like the answers."

I stared a moment longer, before I found my voice, "What did you mean, that we were all swords and knives?"

"Power makes us, and we in turn make our power; power shapes us, as we shape power. Even now, strong purpose is imprinted upon my husk. Might echoes the holder. You are someone who is very bold, your might is bold as well."

I raised an eyebrow at that. I pointed to myself, repeating, "Me, bold?"

"You are bolder than you realize."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Lunch was rolling around. I left Charnel in the sun room, and wandered out into the cafeteria.

I didn't think Charnel had the same meal schedule I did... Come to think of it, I didn't think I'd ever seen Charnel actually eating. I wondered if she needed to, or if the extensive alterations to her body made that unnecessary.

I wondered what substituted as fuel. Some kind of Tinkertech generator? A fuel cell or something, in her chest? I'd never really tried to push past my initial, shallow surface impressions. There was just too much of it, just in her skin and muscles, and the parts that were shell...

What about the rest of her? What actually was she, exactly?

And the riddles. Who was the 'Professor'? And what did that have to do with... All the rest of that. My head buzzed with that strange, strange conversation. While I couldn't say she was the strangest, out of all my friends at Alchemilla Charnel might have to be the most obtuse.

I... Yes, Charnel was probably someone I considered my friend.

Feral's conversation with the nurse had ended at some point, and now she was sitting at one of the tables, leaning back on the bench, her elbows on the table. As I walked towards her, her face lit up in a bright smile. "You know? That was incredible, Auspice."

"Incredible?"

"Yeah. Most people really don't like talking to Charnel. She's... you know..." Feral waggled a hand, "Thanks for talking to her and not wigging out."

"I was just being nice," I mumbled, "Is she always so..." I asked, searching for a word that fit. Charnel definitely was something, but I wasn't sure what it was or what to call it.

"Strange?" Feral said, she shrugged one shoulder, "Yeah."

I sat next to Feral, "Do you know what she was talking about?"

"Not all of it." She said, "There's a lot of red tape tying up her file. I tried asking, back when I'd just started working with her, couldn't get a straight answer. And, it might not really matter."

"Hm?" I blinked.

"It's something dad says. We all have a cross to bear. Everyone is fighting some kind of battle."

I nodded, that sounded like Doctor Selmy all right. I'd seen the face of those battles in Mimi and Heather and Elle. "Mimi and I were going to take Elle down to talk to Doctor Widmark about getting into the ward play, but they're both sick today." I said, "Do you know if I can sign them up if they aren't present?"

Feral tilted her head, "We can find out. Come on."


	27. Eyas 4-3

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

It turned out Doctor Widmark didn't actually direct the plays.

That was actually a task the patients took on, under supervision. Which made more sense, I think. It was their project. A therapeutic kind of thing. Doctor Widmark didn't ask why Mimi and Elle couldn't stop on by, instead simply asking if I'd like to direct.

I was... I was not opposed to the idea. I asked Doctor Widmark if I could think about it. I think the only time I'd been in a play was fifth grade... I couldn't even remember what it was about, or what part I had. All I could remember was Emma talking excitedly about how we'd get to use makeup (a big deal back then) and the sight of my parents sitting proudly in the middle rows, looking up at us.

That night, I sat on my bed, slumping with my elbows on my knees, siting on my bed and wishing deeply fervently that I could sleep. It would be nice, to escape from thinking for a few hours. Just drift off and lose myself in formless limbo...

I rubbed my face and looked over at my computer.

...

Oh, yeah. My email. I kept putting it off, trying to find the time, and here I was. The time had found me. It was a strange thing to think, I didn't even need to sleep anymore, so why couldn't I find time to write?

I turned my computer on. Waited for it to boot up while massaging my neck. I had a tension headache coming on... I wondered if I ought to take up meditation. That was supposed to be as restful as sleep if you got good at it, right?

Half a dozen unread messages blinked at the top of my inbox queue. Emma, Mom. I hovered over the oldest, one of Emma's, then clicked it.

At first it was a mundane recounting of high school events and minor local events in Brockton. Dropping temperatures and the onset of autumn. Anticipation for upcoming Halloween, some costume ideas.

The second was a bit shorter, sparser. Emma said hi and that she missed me, but it was mostly empty space.

Was that Emma? It didn't feel like her, Emma was gregarious, and the stilted, awkward small talk... it sounded alien, imagining it coming from her. I just... couldn't see it.

The third was...

I stopped and blinked, re-reading the third email.

 _From: LovelyGinger_

 _To: GestatingTeneral_

 _Hey, Taylor_

 _It's weird not having you here. I didn't end up going out for Halloween. I guess it was time to start growing out of stuff like that. Remember when you went as Alexandria? I remember._

 _I also remember seeing that one lady that went as Narwal. Now that's something you don't forget!_

 _There were police cars out all night. Mom didn't let us out of her sight. Ann 's still off at Cornell, maybe she went to a party up there. I wanted to go out with Madison. I kind of thought I'd go as that new french hero, the one from the last Endbringer fight? The fox themed one that joined Coccinelle 's team? I forget her name, she had a great look._

 _I was kinda looking forward to that._

 _Mom wouldn't let me go out and watched me like a hawk all night so I didn't try sneaking out. Madison called and said her mom grounded her too. We had a sleepover! Watched a bunch of scary movies. Mads is fun, but it wasn't the same. Madison says she saw a girl in the locker room a week ago- she had a Fae Eye tattoo. So I guess the Fae are setting up shop in Winslow now._

 _We heard gunfire around midnight. I guess Mom was right. There's too many big gangs, they're fighting all the time. A bunch of the cheerleading squad are Fae, and everyone knows it. Mom wouldn't let me try out because there's a rumor going around that Ingenue is recruiting girls as prostitutes._

 _Highschool isn't a lot of fun without you._

 _I miss you, Tay_

I sat back, swallowing past the tightness in my throat. There it was, that complicated muddle of emotions that had pinched so much when she had visited. The distant ache of sadness without a source. The companionship and old love, like a comfortable place. The cloying undertone of bitter jealousy. Something I'd never expected to find in Emma, not towards me.

Emma was smart and beautiful and popular, she could slip into a conversation like she'd always been there and make everyone feel like they'd known her their whole lives. Emma had always been the voice, the outgoing one, she never had trouble talking to people. Building up her impending visit in my mind, I never imagined her being the quiet one. The one waiting for me to talk.

The one that needed me to talk to her.

Something... Something was wrong. I had known that something was wrong, and I didn't know how to make it right. I didn't know what to do.

This wasn't a power problem. I couldn't solve it as Auspice, no parahuman had known Emma. None had grown up with her, and knew something was wrong. I had to solve it as Taylor, and I'd never really known how to solve problems as Taylor. But what could I do? I wasn't even in the same state, and I didn't know if I would have known what to say even if I could see her every day. This wasn't a problem my powers could solve.

But she wasn't here now. And I remembered Mimi. I remembered that I hadn't known how to use my powers when I'd seen her, not really. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I thought of Emma, the last time I'd seen her. And l remembered loneliness.

So much like the loneliness I'd sensed in Mimi that first day.

That thought stuck with me. I sat down and started to type.

 _From: GestatingTeneral_

 _To: LovelyGinger_

 _I miss you too, Emms._

 _You and Mom and Ann and every stupid, wonderful thing in Brockton._

I hesitated. I... I wished I knew what to say. I had no idea what I wanted to say. What I ought to say.

Frustration bubbled up, and I clenched my fists, and breathed deeply. It was just like trying to help Mimi, I wanted to help, but the answers weren't something I could just do.

I started typing again.

 _There are some more Protectorate heroes around Alchemilla now. One of them is a former Patient, and she's really cool!_

 _She's had to struggle a lot, to become a hero. It's really encouraging to know that she was able to overcome all of that and join the Protectorate. And, it's also a lesson. Wish I could tell you more. Next time you come on by I'll tell you all about her._

 _Part of being a hero is-_

What did I know of being a hero? Did I really deserve to say that? I'd never done anything great with my powers. Never fought crime. The most I'd accomplished was maybe get a few minutes on the news for- for killing someone good.

The words on the screen felt like lying, like I was a fraud.

...

I deleted the line.

 _She became a hero because someone helped her. Because someone didn't give up on her._

 _Do you remember all those patients I told you about? I'm working on helping a bunch of them. I want them all to get out of Alchemilla, help them get better. It's hard because a bunch of them have been here for a while and they've kind of given up. But I'm not going to let them. They're my friends._

 _Emms, you're my friend too._

 _I know can't be there for you right now, but when I'm released I'm going to be a hero. We're all going to be heroes._

 _Stay safe. We'll all be heroes one day. And you'll be there too._

I sat back, and took a deep breath. It came out as a sigh.

Send.

The next letter was from Mom.

 _From: JoinedinDeluge_

 _To: GestatingTeneral_

 _Hey sweetie._

 _I've spent most of my life ignorant of parahumans, about their lives. There really isn't and excuse for it. The past months I have discovered just how deeply my ignorance runs. I've been doing my best to correct this failing._

 _I've been talking to several professionals that deal in cases like ours. Parahumans with very public trigger events, or powers they cannot control fully. There are options, and I am looking into them. I can't promise anything at this point. I'm sorry._

 _In the meantime, I want you to remember._

 _Power is not something you get because of some tragic circumstances. It is not some burden you are shouldered with. You don't have to be powerful to do good. The desire, to do good, can itself make you powerful. The means to improve, yourself, the world, it always exists as long as you have the faith to use what you have to change something, anything for the better._

 _Optimism is not a perfect world, not a state of existence where everything is perfect and fair. It is the belief that with time, things will get better._

 _I've tried my best to teach you to do and be good, and nothing I have heard from you, and from the staff at Alchemilla has been anything but good. I'm proud of you._

I reached up and massaged the back of my neck, willing the tightness away. Breathed deeply, carefully.

The days blurred together when you couldn't sleep, and my moods the past few days had run a gamut, from the emotional hollow following Mimi's disastrous therapy session, to the uplifting foundation I had found in Feral. She was amazing, and talking to her had helped ground me throughout the day. But, now that I was alone, the emotional exhaustion hollowed me out again.

Feral was always smiling. It was a little eerie, I hadn't realized how rare smiles were here before she showed up.

Having her sitting in on a group meeting lent a surreal element I hadn't expected. She was larger than life, personable, charismatic, fun... everything I wanted to be as a hero. I found myself intimidated in a way I hadn't been while the Masked Man stalked us.

What was more, there was a deep-seated dissatisfaction, anxiety... I couldn't quite give it a name besides- energy. Ticking away inside my veins and nerves, itching, itching. Trying to escape.

My fingers worked the back of my neck, but the tension remained. I started writing.

 _To: JoinedinDeluge_

 _From: GestatingTeneral_

 _Hi mom._

 _I won't forget. I_

 _I_

 _I'm not going to_

My hands stilled, the uncertain typing stuttered to a halt, and my arms fell to my lap. I stopped.

I stared at what I'd written for heartbeats, until it started to blur in my eyes and I had to lean back and away from the screen. I didn't know what to say.

I breathed deep and looked down at my lap where my hands rested. My hands, they were shaking. Why were they shaking? I stared at my fingers as they shivered on my thigh.

I itched. I was... afraid? No. I shook my head. That same lack of focus, and the itch pressed in. But it was soothed a little because Mom knew exactly what I needed to hear.

I shouldn't have gotten a power. Mom- Dad- my parents should have gotten powers. Mom always knew what to say. How to say it. She would have been like Feral- a force of good nature that moved through a crowd and lifted heads, lifted hearts. She'd heal, inspire, and uplift. She'd lead with love.

And Dad.

My memories were starting to fade, but Mom remembered him enough for both of us. Tall, lean, stronger than he looked. He had a temper, and he fought it, but it also gave him strength. He cared about justice, Mom said, and he never backed down from anything he believed in. He'd worked with the dockworkers union, helped people get jobs and fair pay, Mom said.

I sat, thinking about them both. I'd be a hero. The kind of hero they'd want me to be.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I closed my email unfinished. I'd come back to it in a bit, when I'd found better words. Focus returned as I browsed pages on PHO.

The Machine Army had skirmished with the heroes again, the PRT on Eagleton's perimeter had doubled down on patrols. I clicked an old video on the PHO page (an old, grainy cellphone video from back when the Machines initially emerged, no audio) showed the inside of an office building with wood panel walls and cubicles, desks, chairs, an paper and a copier in the corner. Shelving.

Something moved in a corner, a flicker of movement, the camera moved, jittering wildly, but whatever had spooked the cameraman was gone.

I closed the video. It was an old one, everyone had already seen it, myself included. The machines would mimic everyday objects, wait until the group was too far into the building, guide them in deeper by blocking halls, locking doors. Then the way back would just... be gone. Then the coffee cups, the chairs, the desks, they would all turn back into the Machines and then-

The video wouldn't have what happened next- it was always edited to cut that part out, but always went on long enough to guess.

I shivered.

A traitorous thought niggled at the back of my mind. Nick, eyes hollow while he shared his fears for Heather. Saying they were used up and burnt out. Attrition rates.

Cold shivered up my back. When heroes had first appeared, there had been a riot. Something to do with sports. A hero had arrived on the scene, Vikare. Many thought of him as the first hero.

And he'd been hit over the head. Died on the way to the hospital. That was all it took.

Before I came to Alchemilla, I hadn't thought about parahumans as people; fallible, mortal, fragile people. Mimi wanted to go fight the Machine Army if she got out, with a forlorn, distant hope because she thought maybe she'd get to use her powers in a beneficial way. I tried to imagine her fighting the Machines, and my gut twisted painfully.

I looked for something else to think about. An impulse had me clicking into Feral's page again.

I'd looked her up, before. Back after I'd first met her in the infirmary. Her postings, and professional history. Now I looked for stories. A teacher, she'd visited a school two years ago. A community outreach program joint effort through Haven. It lifted my mood briefly, and I saved the article.

I paused, then, I looked up Charnel. I frowned. Nothing.

A couple hits for blood-themed villains. Carnages, three of them. Popular name. Nothing I recognized. That- I'd seen that before, hadn't I? I leaned back, thinking. Yes, that was right, Marionette didn't have anything either.

That... couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Charnel had said there was a Professor, he'd made her. Changed her, or altered her. Powers were usually very unique, you might find a similar power, but they were as unique as people were and Marionette was very, very similar.

But, nothing.

I'd already tried Tinkers that dealt in what I thought Charnel (and Marionette?) had, I didn't know where else to look. I didn't even know the dates Marionette and Charnel had been admitted, so I couldn't cross-reference major events or a timeline of any kind.

"Another mystery," I muttered. That itch was back.

I turned my attention to searched for Alchemilla. Patients from Alchemilla. History of Alchemilla. Success stories. I wanted more Ferals, I wanted to know what victory looked like here; beating Elle's empty eyes, Mimi's angry outbursts and despairing spirals. What it looked like to the doctors.

I started looking for more, something, anything. But information was limited. I... I understood why it might be, information security. Blake had pointed out that there were capes here, villains and heroes alike, who had enemies. But surely the Protectorate would want the success stories circulated in some form? Feral wasn't unique, Doctor Yamada and Doctor Selmy had mentioned others, that they were rare but not nonexistent.

But the more I read, more my frustration grew. Feral was a very prominent case, and there were more, but they were few and far between. There were a handful of stories- of parahumans like Fusor, who'd taken time off, a hiatus, recuperation from serious injury, that sort of thing. Everything I found was indirect, in passing, after the fact. Feral was an anomaly in that she wore her time at Alchemilla on her sleeve, she was proud of it. She sought out chances to share her experiences.

I thought about that, leaning back and really thinking.

Well, parahumans not being forthcoming about stays in a psychiatric hospital was understandable. Celebrities usually tried to keep things like that private. I made a mental note to ask Feral about others.

If she was willing and able to talk about it, I amended. The sounded like it could fall under confidential information, I wasn't sure what was common knowledge and what was not. What she'd get in trouble for, and what she wouldn't. The internet was not the final metric in stuff like this.

I kept reading, now more aimlessly

An article from Haven, a cape named Rosary describing her trigger event in hushed, hesitant tones. Halting often, stuttering. She was young, I think. I couldn't be sure with her hat and mask, but she sounded young.

She described her trigger as being reborn, a second chance at life. A realization of everything she'd taken for granted, all horizons expanded.

I'd heard of Haven, they were a team from down south- they had a religious theme. I clicked on the organization tab and found me on their main page. Haven was known for their charity work, and a longstanding enminity with The Fallen, a villain organization.

Villains and the heroes that fight them, I considered Rosary's interview, this was the world I had also been reborn into. I wished my problems were like the Fallen, at least then I'd know what to do about them. Or what I could do?

"This is a lot more complicated than I thought it'd be."

I kept searching, in the back of my mind I had the vague notion of finding other Thinker powers, like mine. Maybe getting some ideas from them. I knew about Accord, from Boston, and there was Hunch from New York. They were Thinkers, but weren't really similar. Clarity, out in California, she had a lingering clairvoyance she could instill in objects. And there were a couple forms of clairvoyance tied to distance. Apex. Watch. Seek. Gypsy.

None of them had extensive pages really. Thinkers tended to operate behind the lines. In the background. They rarely got the spotlight. Where there any powers like mine? It wasn't flashy, but my power was mine. Unique. Even if some of that had led me here. I owned that, even if owning all of it hurt sometimes.

I think the technical term for what I did was periperception, but it did extend further than arm's reach, even if it was weaker. I listened to my breathing, and sharpened my attention to the echoes in my little room. The faint buzz of the light overhead. The blood rushing in my ears. I wondered if this enhanced sense of space, of echo and sound, counted as clairaudiance.

I leaned back in my chair, rested my head on the backrest, and stared at the ceiling.

My mind was far away from my body, in the skeletal outline of impressions, of hallways and rooms comprising Alchemilla in my mind. Motes of brighter familiarity moving about. Most in their rooms, for the night cycle. Even if they hadn't been, my awareness of the hospital had grown to the point I'd stopped really needing to concentrate to sense my floor plan. Low-sec really wasn't very complicated to navigate. I'd seen nearly all of it.

There wasn't much to do in low-sec, was there?

It was a strange realization to make. I hadn't felt particularly claustrophobic or insular- or well, I didn't think of it that way. I hadn't had enough time to stop and breathe. Not enough.

But, maybe... It was the people?

I considered Nick and Heather, Mimi, Elle, Charnel, Blake... Benny. People were interesting, my powers peeled back the layers and allowed me to view hidden facets that were not obvious; and what it revealed was always increasing.

In imagining a superpower for myself all those nights sleeping over with Emma, I'd have never imagined I'd get people-watching as a power...

Getting powers.

I sharpened my attention back to that, that moment of disarray and clarity in the alley. The smell of blood and garbage. Mom's fear, the too-loud sound of their voices. My confused alarm. Were they muggers? Rapists? Were we going to vanish, would Emma wonder what happened to me? Would the police find us?

And then there was that moment...

I came back to myself, and concentrated on what I had seen, the memory, one hand blindly groping across my desk for my notebook. My journal.

I'd shown Doctor Yamada, before. It was... blurry, indistinct. Every time I remembered it, it was just a little different, like I was looking at it from a different angle. Each time, I saw a little more.

I opened my journal, with my eyes closed, my power and familiarity guided my hands to the right page- the right place. I began to write as quickly as I could.

...

...

I released my mental grip, and slowly what remained slipped away. My hand was starting to cramp anyway, I had to stop.

My breath was a little short, and my vision swam, there was a distant ache behind my eyes, one I'd come to associate with heavy use of my power. Or, trying to use it on a distant focus, something I wasn't very attuned to.

I stared down at what I'd written, massaging my wrist, and tried to make sense of it all.

I wasn't sure what I was seeing. I sighed and flipped through my notebook, my pages of theories and printouts of articles and thoughts.

There were a lot of theories surrounding powers. A lot of speculation, but no conclusive answer.

Some people thought they manifested in moments of extreme emotion; or in climactic, pivotal moments in people's lives. Really bad days, or incredible triumphs. There was a lot of contradiction, but by and large the accepted idea was that it tied into you reaching your limits, and the strongest powers resulted from athletes, great minds, people who surpassed a wall.

Positive emotions, moments of triumph and excellence lead to stronger, better powers with less drawbacks. Moments of negativity lead to flawed powers with complicating factors.

I looked back at the computer screen. The Parahumans Online homepage was front and foremost. There was a news article featuring the Triumvirate. Eidolon? Alexandria? Hero? They must have done something major.

I didn't read the headline, just looked at the picture of Eidolon, and Alexandria, and Hero in his golden armor. I looked down at my hands and thought about Randell Daniels. Waking up in the hospital that first day, and what I'd done with my powers.

I had a lot of time to think.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Doctor Yamada was almost as glad to see me as I was to see her. Doctor Yamada's office was a welcome oasis, the touches of personality removed it slightly in my mind, and helped dial back the tension I'd been gathering in my neck back a touch.

Her office was a lot like Doctor Selmy's, a little more open. Instead of the chairs being oriented around a coffee table, they were set opposite each other with end tables that held water and desk lamps. Liked the desk lamps, they were those old-fashioned glass-shaded lamps.

"Is there anything you would like to start on?" Doctor Yamada asked.

"Just gathering my thoughts." I sighed, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees and one hand rubbing the back of my neck, "I... I don't know. It almost feels like I'm in a rut."

"In the sense you're unsatisfied with your progress to date, or in the sense you want to introduce something new?"

I'd had a lot of time to think about it, and the answer was still a shrug. I gave Doctor Yamada a helpless sigh.

"Both? Neither?" I frowned, "It's like... I feel like I ought to be doing more. I've got all this excess energy and I don't know what to do with any of it. I don't sleep, and I- well, I don't think the courses are very challenging."

Doctor Yasmada looked thoughtful, "Would you like to try taking college entrance exams? You could try testing out of high school."

"I..." I had wanted to go to high school with Emma. We'd talked about it, "I'll think about it." I said, but I sounded plaintive and uncertain, even to myself.

Doctor Yamada only nodded, "Well, we can come back to that at a later point. Your grades are good enough to skip ahead. In the meantime, Doctor Lafayette said you had a plan. He was very eager to see where you went with it."

I perked up a little at that, "Yeah, Elle wanted to try it, and I thought it'd be a good place to start. Mimi's on board, and Heather and Nick want to give it a try too. So, I guess I roped everyone into it."

Doctor Yamada smiled for me, and I could feel the true sincerity under her expression, "That's wonderful!

I smiled too, but there was more to it, it felt brittle around the edges, Mimi's more spectacular moments meant that there was more weight than belied by a smile when I said, "They need this, they have to do it, Just- just holding position like they've been isn't helping anyone."

She wasn't fooled. "Taylor, you've thrown yourself into this with incredible enthusiasm, and I have heard nothing but praise. But what about you?" She took a sip of water, and set the glass back on its coaster, "I am a little worried that you are pinning your hopes on this one thing, and you might end up disappointed."

I looked away, thinking, and working my neck with my free hand, trying to work out some of the stress there.

"I guess... I'm a little scared. I'm worried I'm going to mess up and..." I breathed deeply, centering, "If Mimi can't pull this off, I don't know what will happen. And Elle was so excited. Has she had any opportunities to... Just interact with people?"

"She has." said Doctor Yamada, "Even in medium security, there are regular groups for activities and a full staff. Elle's problems are tied more to her inability to interact even when those are available."

I sighed, "Yeah, I guessed, it's just..." I rubbed my neck, "What I read off her, this is a real treat." I didn't want to bring her down from that. I didn't want her to be disappointed, I didn't know what that would do to her.

"... It is more difficult to organize larger group activities." Doctor Yamada said, "And there can be a great deal of risk attached."

I could imagine.

"...I tried looking up patients, you know, success stories. I wanted to know what I was working towards. Feral is pretty well known, but I couldn't find anyone else."

"There are a lot of Non Disclosure Agreements to cut through before we can give out information." Doctor Yamada said, then paused, "If you'd like, I can ask. It might be a good idea to bring some more success stories in. But I can't promise anything."

"Good, that's... Good. I'm trying to decide what, well, what victory is. What it'd look like. I thought it'd be easier when I took you up on the sponsor program." I said, "Now I'm trying to decide what I'm actually aiming for and what I ought to really be stressing over."

Doctor Yamada made an agreeable sound

"I hear a 'but' in that."

I breathed deeply, trying to organize my thoughts into something I could articulate.

"I... I don't know what to call it." I admitted, "I... I feel like I'm all twisted up, inside. I remember that time Mimi burned me, and I- I can understand Elle, but not enough. I'm worried, I won't be able to do enough. I'm worried..."

I struggled for the word.

"If I may?" Doctor Yamada asked, and I nodded, "It sounds like you have made a lot of progress very quickly, but now you're starting to run into obstacles."

"...Yeah, that sounds about right."

"I have had patients in the past that had similar difficulties. Many of them are young, and still finding their place in the world, deciding what they want to do with themselves even before powers entered the picture." Doctor Yamada said,

"So I..." I trailed off.

"You're a teenager. It's a confusing time in life."

I snorted a laugh, "But what do I do about it?"

Doctor Yamada leaned back, thoughtfully, "If we don't understand our own emotions, and many of us do not, it takes a lot to get to a point where you do understand yourself. I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say many people never reach that point."

"Is that what I should be looking for? Trying to do?" I asked, "Trying to understand myself better?"

"Being able to examine your own motivations, your logic, and the flaws in your reasoning will make you a better person as a whole. Parahuman or not."

I stared at the wall, feeling very small and stupid, "I thought I'd leave... I don't know, stuff like this behind after I became a parahuman. You know? You read about Alexandria in the news, watch videos and they all look so untouchable. Everything looked so glamorous and ..."

Bigger, more than petty problems and worries, larger than life.

"More..." I trailed off limply.

"Taylor, you need to understand, powers can't bring out anything that isn't already in you." Doctor Yamada said carefully.

I thought of Mimi, of... God, of Solace holding her head and crying in the corner. "But they can be an obstacle."

"They can be. Yes."

I took a shaky breath.

"I'm... I'm worried that this is going to beat me. Beat us. Mimi doesn't have much hope left. Elle has trouble communicating on her own, she needs a circle of friends she can count on. I'm worried that it's going to defeat them and I don't know what I'll do when- if, if that happens..." I sighed, "It feels like... one more defeat will be the end. That they won't have it in them to keep going if that happens.

Doctor Yamada nodded, thoughtful, "What would defeat look like?

"Excuse me?'

"Setting high goals is a good thing. I don't want to discourage you from doing so, but accomplishing them might not be a simple process. What would be a defeat, for you?"

"...Mimi going to the Birdcage." I said at last, my shoulders slumped, "And... and Elle going back to Medium Security."

Doctor Yamada leaned forward and set a hand on my knee, bringing my gaze back up to meet hers.

"I don't think that will ever happen, Taylor." She said, "Mimi is trying, she hasn't given up."

Hearing her say that meant more to me than I wanted to admit. She leaned back, thinking, "Do you think they would be able to handle a full session of group therapy?"

I managed to smile, a little weakly, but real. "I think Elle would love it. Mimi'd probably love it, if she could get over being nervous."

Doctor Yamada smiled back, then frowned, "We've talked about your goals. And we've talked about your plans with Mimi and Elle. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?"

I hesitated.

"I tried to read my memory again."

Doctor Yamada leaned back, thoughtful, "Just a second..."

She flipped a page back on her notepad. Looking at her notes from last session, I guessed. "Is the woman still there?"

"Yeah, I saw more this time. She had silver hair, really long." I paused, "There was something else, I think... She was sad? Or confused?"

I frowned, "I'm... I'm actually not sure..."

"Hmm." Doctor Yamada frowned, "It might be another parahuman."

"...Could be." I muttered. It could be.

"But, what about the rest of it?"

"Maybe it has to do with how your powers work? There are many theories, regarding the power source parahuman abilities draw on, the mechanics. What causes them."

"Yes! Yes, that's what I thought too! I'm.. I'm almost sure of it." I straightened, "That's, um... Parallel universes! It's a theory that powers are from alternate dimensions. That's what I was seeing, I think. Something in many places at once, all layered on itself. But it was surrounded by lights. They were coming off it..."

"You believe you're seeing the source of your power?"

"Well, it makes sense." I added, "I can use my power on myself."

"It might." Doctor Yamada agreed, more subdued, "I am glad you are sharing this with me, Taylor. Would you like to sign up for power therapy? It is a little early to do deep testing, but... If there's been a major development in your power, it might be a good idea."

"Yeah, I think so."

She made a note on her pad, "That's good to hear. I'm sure we can get you set up next week."

I nodded.

"Is there anything else, Taylor?"

I shook my head, "No... I, I think that was all... what I needed to hear."

"Good." Doctor Yamada stood, and I followed suite. She looked at me, a long somber stare. "You know, Taylor. I read something once... Taoist philosophy... The Master doesn't try to be powerful; he is powerful. Someone ordinary keeps reaching for power and thus never has enough."

She looked at me very seriously, "Be careful, Taylor. Keep doing good. Your situation is out of your control, but what you decide to do with it, that is always up to you." I heard my mother's words echoed in that. Do and be good, if that was all you could do.

I grinned back, and it felt good. "I think I can do that."


	28. Eyas 4-4

[EDITED 5/13/18 : Thanks to Kuro-Neko and Ziel.]

[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I'd known this was coming for a while. It felt like the first time I'd ever attended group therapy, all the butterflies in my stomach. No need to be so nervous.

In my extra-awareness, Mimi's mood was anxious, but level. Elle was eager, looking forward to it, a little jittery but it was the good kind of jittery. I glanced at Elle and she smiled back, just a little absently. She was pretty aware today. Her mood helped counter-balance my own apprehension.

Doctor Ferris was already seated, looking over her notes. When we looked up, she smiled, "Auspice! And your friends... You prefer Mimi, right?"

"I, um, yes." Mimi muttered.

"And Labyrinth, you're a little early, would you like to take a seat?"

I moved to the circle of chairs, leading Elle along by the hand, with Mimi trailing along nervously behind me. I sat at the far wall, Elle on one side, Mimi on the other.

"I'm glad you could join us today." Doctor Ferris said, and I could sense she was being truthful, too. Oh, she was nervous, but she was happy to see them. I was getting better at picking out nuances.

"I'm glad... To be here too." Elle said, with tightly controlled enunciation.

"Y-yeah." Mimi added, and gave a watery smile.

"Will we be having anyone new today?" I asked. The past few weeks had been so chaotic, my group had been divided up and reassigned over and over again. I was hoping some kind of normalcy would be established. I understood the entire point of group therapy was to establish a support network of peers, but the chaos had denied the opportunity for anything like that since Elle had created her dreamworld. Before then, it'd been a regular group with Charnel, Heather, Nick, Blake... and Benny.

Doctor Ferris looked up from her clipboard, let it hang by her side, tapping her leg. It felt like a tic, a nervous habit. Idly, I pushed deeper.

-she emotes with her hands- nervous? Too much coffee. Is excited. Wants this to work. Genuine. Believes sessions are generally helpful-

"We're trying to get everyone set up with a regular group again." Doctor Ferris said, smiling. She was being truthful.

I glanced at Mimi, "I really hope Mimi and Elle can keep coming, that's not going to be a problem, will it?"

"No, it won't." Doctor Ferris said with finality. Truth. ...Mimi and Elle were going to be joining my group on a permanent basis, then?

I glanced at the chairs, five were empty. "Who else is coming?" I asked instead.

"Heather and Nicholas, and another girl. Gretchen."

"Tulpa?"

"You've met." Doctor Ferris said, deadpan.

"Yeah..."

Doctor Ferris shook her head and sighed, "That girl... yes. Charnel as well, and a guest. You've met her, Feral."

I nodded slowly. All people I knew. And all of them knew most or all of each other. I thought about my group. What I knew about them. I'd never even seen the real Gretchen, I think. Heather and Nick had been in my group more consistently than anyone else. Blake... I was sad to see him go, but His attendance had dropped off since Benny died. I hadn't really expected him to return.

But, with Mimi and Elle, and Heather... More than half the group was part of a sponsorship... Charnel was some kind of sponsor, Feral was working with her. Maybe Gretchen was too?

I didn't know what to think about that. Didn't know if I wanted to know, there was a lot of pressure tied to that, if I was right. If it wasn't being built around the sponsorship program, was it... built around what?

A moment later, A girl in blue stepped through the door- without opening it first.

"Hey!"

Elle gave a squeak, and Mimi flinched. I'd been watching the door, so I wasn't as surprised. But I was far too used to using my power to warn me of people approaching, I still hadn't felt her coming. I really needed to try using my mundane senses more.

"...Gretchen..." Doctor Ferris sighed, then glared at her sternly, "Stop trying to startle everyone."

Gretchen skipped across the floor and waved to Mimi, "Hey!"

Mimi blinked back at her, "Hey."

"You're Burnscar, right?" Gretchen said, "I'm Tulpa. I think I've seen you around a few times, but we've never talked?"

"Uh, yeah." Mimi said, giving me a nervous side-eye.

"I'd offer to shake your hand, but-" Gretchen reached out and slid her hand across Mimi's face. It disappeared up to the wrist. Mimi jumped a little and shied back away from it, shooting a desperate glance my way.

"Gretchen, please." Doctor Ferris said, a little louder, standing up.

-slightly hesitant when she looks at Mimi. Mimi doesn't have a good history with groups. Ferris worried she'll set her off-

"It's okay." I said. I put a hand on Mimi's shoulder, gave her a reassuring squeeze, "I'm pretty sure that's just her way of saying hi."

"Heh. No hard feelings?" Gretchen grinned.

Mimi nodded slowly, not looking relived at all.

Doctor Ferris led Gretchen out, and I could sense from Doctor Ferris' side they held a very quiet and serious conversion- probably about personal boundaries. Mimi's nerves were shot, but Elle's response was even worse. She was glowering, actually frowning at the door.

I reached out and took her hand.

"You doing all right, Elle?"

Slow, languid blinks brought her back to herself, and she turned away from the door.

I could still feel the anger off her, the irritation.

"I don't... Don't like her."

-Annoyed. Hates Gretchen-

That was... A lot clearer than most of what usually I picked up off of Elle. "You don't need to hate her, Elle." I admonished her. A little jolt of surprise from Elle at that. Then curiosity. "I think I'm getting better at reading you."

"You... You...can." A distinct impression of query followed.

"Not that good." I added. Elle's disappointment was sharp. She hated not being able to speak, "It's all right Elle, I can still understand you."

Elle's attention drifted, further away, but more concrete.

-Still annoying. 'I hate Gretchen'. Annoying-

"Yeah, she is, I guess."

I turned to look at Mimi, and she quickly glanced away. I could feel a distant pang of loneliness from her, that bitterness, and that same envy from before. She was right here with us, did she still not think of herself as my friend? Maybe it was just habit, thinking of herself as an outsider, but I wasn't going to stand for it.

I reached out and squeezed her shoulder, Mimi looked back up and I squeezed again. No more of that; dammit Mimi, I'm going to get through to you.

Gretchen and Doctor Ferris stepped back in. Doctor Ferris took her seat, but Gretchen diverted and stopped in front of our little trio, "Um, sorry for spooking you."

Mimi nodded slowly, a little shy of Gretchen... I'd been concentrating on Elle, and her reaction, but now that I was looking for it, Mimi really was spooked.

It'd never occurred to me, but was Mimi afraid of powers? I hadn't made the connection. But someone who fought her own power so much... I could feel her apprehension, and I wondered.

Mimi cleared her throat, "Um- yeah, it's okay." she stuttered.

"Stop it." Elle enunciated carefully.

Gretchen laughed a little, "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't know you'd fall over."

She plopped down next to Mimi. Doctor Ferris kept an eye on Gretchen, surreptitiously. She pretended to leaf through her notes, but her attention remained almost entirely on Gretchen. Who started chatting with Mimi.

"You knocked her over?" Mimi asked.

"No, I startled her and she just tipped on her own."

("So, what kind of television you like?")

("Uh... Um...")

I'll rescue you, if you need the help, Mimi. Until then...

I glanced back at Elle, she was still frowning. Not exactly angry, just kind of irritated and petty, but it was deeper than before. Oh, I hoped this wasn't the start of a strange grudge.

The door opened again, Heather and Nick this time. Heather had the strangest look on her face. Behind her, Nick was talking animatedly with Feral, who took up the rear with Charnel.

"This all of us?" Feral asked.

"Indeed!" Doctor Ferris leaned forward, "Everyone take a seat, let's get right into it."

Feral sat down beside Heather, Nick between Gretchen and Heather. Charnel sat next to Doctor Ferris and completed the circle. I focused my power on one, then another, cycling through each and sampling their emotions and anxieties. Getting a feel for the group as a whole.

"This is going to be a trial period, testing the waters to see if we can work together. After the past couple weeks, and the disruptions. I understand that not all of your know each other."

Doctor Ferris gestured across the circle.

"This is just a meet and greet," she continued, a resounding sense of confidence resonating with her voice as she spoke. There were nerves beneath that, tempered by experience. "It is intended to help us establish whether we ought to move forward as a group. Before we get started, I know some of you have participated in a formal group setting before and you understand the rules. The rest of you might not be familiar with how group support works. I want to establish some ground rules."

Nods all around. Nick, Gretchen and Feral all seemed familiar with this. Heather was bored already. Mimi's tension was still steady, I was pretty sure this was new for her. New, or something she had experience with, but not positive experience. Elle had a mischievous inclination that I had trouble placing. She was excited, I think? Eager. Maybe she was just excited about working with a large group? With her powers, it had to be difficult. Maybe the opportunity had never come up before. I'd almost call it truculent, except it was Elle...I honestly couldn't tell if Charnel was paying attention or not; she seemed a little vacant, staring straight ahead.

Doctor Ferris flipped a page.

"This is a confidential group setting. Confidentiality and anonymity foster honesty and help make this a safe place to share. In keeping with the rules of confidentiality, anything said between any two or more group members at any time is part of the group discussion and is confidential."

"There is an exception, which applies to the group leader." Doctor Ferris said, "I am group leader. If I believe that someone is in danger, I have a professional obligation to take direct action in order to keep everyone safe."

-her emotions were muted when she looked at Mimi. Her confidence retreated. She didn't believe it would help Mimi, not deep down-

"No group member is required to answer any question, to participate in any activity, or to tell anything. If you are asked questions you do not need to answer them, you do not need to participate in an activity that makes you uncomfortable. You have the right to pass, the right to refuse." Doctor Ferris continued, glancing around the circle, "I do believe you will benefit more from the group the more you are able to take risks sharing and participating, but no one can or will force you to do so."

"There is to be no hazing. No group member is to be humiliated, hazed, or abused in any way. Violence or intimidation toward other group members will never be tolerated. Violate this rule and you will be asked to leave the group.

"As group leader, I will enforce these rules and guidelines." Doctor Ferris tapped her clipboard on her knees, "Any questions?"

There was a moment of silence. I glanced around the circle, from face to face. The atmosphere of the group was mixed. Feral was faintly nostalgic. Mimi was painfully nervous, churning with anxiety. I could see her clenching her hands on top of her knees, everything drawn in. Gretchen noticed too, and leaned in, whispering. Mimi actually relaxed a little, after a moment.

"Well, none here?" Feral drawled, "You mind if I start the introductions?"

Doctor Ferris leaned back, "Go ahead. Feral."

Feral stood, sitting down she towered over us all even more than before.

"All right. I know this isn't really a done thing, but I- I'm Kalie. I'm a hero with the Protectorate, go by Feral, which I think most of you know." Her eyes flickered in my direction, "I'm on leave right now, and I'll be back on the clock in two weeks. But, I spent a couple years here, and I know it can be rough. Ya know? I'm gonna be helping you all get in the rhythm in the meantime."

She was flush with a brash, forward kind of recklessness. Just giving out her real name. I mean, it was one thing for me to give it out here, I wasn't a hero and never had been. I didn't have any enemies, and most of us here were like that. Heather and Nick hadn't been active long enough to make waves like that. Elle had been institutionalized soon after she got powers.

I guess Mimi might have... And I didn't really know much about Charnel- all that was beside the point. Feral telling us that her name was Kalie, it was a major display of trust. I... had already guessed from the smiling photograph in Doctor Selmy's office. But coming out and saying it...

"You come by all the time." Heather groused. She was bored, and when she was bored she got irritable.

"Would you like to go next, Heather?" Doctor Ferris asked.

Heather hesitated a moment, then shrugged and stood, "All right. I'm Heather, also Glassboom. I was a Ward up in New York. Pissed off the Director, now I'm here I guess. I've been here a year." She looked at Doctor Ferris, and I could feel the challenge in the glance. Come on, Heather, work with her... "I hate it, it's boring." She blew out her cheeks in a huff, "I'm thinking this whole thing is going to crash and fail. That's just how things go around here."

Elle stewed, angrily and earnestly, it was so strange to look at her face and not see any of it. I gave her hand a squeeze. "Elle." I whispered aside, "You need to work on your anger issues."

Her incredulous bewilderment made me smile.

"Thank you for your honesty, Heather." Doctor Ferris said diplomatically. "Who's next?"

"I'll go."

I stood.

"Hi, um... I'm Taylor. My cape name is Auspice, but, I didn't pick it. I, uh, might change it after I get out I guess. I'm a Thinker." I took a deep breath, "I know all of us can do this."

Words escaped me, and I stood there a moment before I realized I probably ought to sit back down. I still hated on-the-spot speeches.

Nick stood up next.

"Um, hello." Nick might have more problems with public speaking than I did. Leading with the same shy smile and hesitation. He'd already met everyone here, but he was still very much a teenage boy confronted with a room of females, and he'd been awkward even before that. "I'm glad to m-meet you. I'm Nick. I was an Independent, and I-I'm uh, a Thinker."

He glanced around the circle, then sat down quickly.

Then Heather stood up and Elle's irritation and impatience spiked; and it only grew as Heather talked more than Nick and I had together.

Charnel stood next. Smooth, gently smiling face. She didn't look at anyone in particular, simply stared straight ahead, unblinking. "I am Maria. I am glad to meet you all." And then she sat down.

I... processed that. I certainly hadn't expected that. But, on the bright side, now I knew her name. Maybe I'd have more luck looking her up? It was something, anyway, even if the chances were slim. Capes with public identities weren't common.

And, lastly, Gretchen, who popped up and floated back down.

"Hey, I'm Gretchen, I was a Ward, kinda. Long story. This is so exciting! I get to work with so many groups! I've been really looking forward to this!"

"Very good." Doctor Ferris said. She retrieved a pair of glasses from her blouse pocket and put them on, "Now that we've gotten introduced, let's get to work."

"As a group, we are committing to help each other. The purpose of the group, and each member of the group individually, is to help each other, to be people we can rely on. We are going to stick by each other. I would like each of you to commit to that. As part of that commitment, no member of the group is going to leave or drop out without consulting and informing the rest of the group."

"I would like all of us to verbally agree, starting from my right."

That was Charnel- Maria. Putting another name to her face felt strange. "I agree." she said, still without blinking or emoting in any fashion.

"I'm on board!" Kalie said.

Heather blew out a sigh, "Sure. Whatever."

Nick fidgeted, coloring slightly. He glanced at Heather, steeling himself with that look. "Y-yeah. I'm fine with that."

"Yeah, I agree. Totally. This is great!" Gretchen was a lot more enthused. She bounced in place energetically, eerily without rocking the chair under her. She glanced to the next person in the chain. Mimi shrunk a bit, but it wasn't too bad.

"I... Yes, I'll do it."

I smiled, widely, "I'm on board."

Elle, last in line. Where all the others had responded quickly, and most confidently, I sensed hesitation from her. Was she afraid she wouldn't be able to speak? It was complicated. Hesitation coupled with real... Shyness? There was something else. A complex tangle of annoyance, aversion, enmity; she was distrustful, afraid. Cautious?

She was shy, but the real reason was she didn't like... Gretchen? No, it was too broad. I glanced at Mimi, then back at Elle.

"Come on, Elle." I said, "We all need each other."

Elle blinked, the tangle in her head straightened with what I could only call resignation. But accented with... Fondness. Yes, fondness. "Okay." She said, slowly, "I can. I will."

Doctor Ferris stood, "All right. In that case, I've a starting activity. Something low-impact to get us started." She stepped over to the wall cabinets, opened one.

"...Board games?" Heather asked, with what sounded like... No, that was actual horror.

"Yes. Something we can talk over, something that won't take too long."

Heather sputtered, Gretchen giggled.

"Hey, doc, how about we take turns picking something to do?" Kalie was actually helpful.

Doctor Ferris paused in selecting one of the boxes, "That sounds like it might work. Everybody like that idea?"

A chorus of affirmatives. The vote was unanimous.

Doctor Ferris walked back toward the circle, "Then it's settled, we'll take turns. I chose this week's activity, Heather, you would like to go next?"

"Hells yes!"

"We can set up a schedule... Kalie can you help me with the table over there?"

Something we could play together. I had never played Chinese checkers before. Neither had Heather (I could tell she thought the entire idea boring immediately)

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Who even plays board games any more?" Heather asked.

The group gathered around the table. Elle glued to my side, Mimi uncomfortable and shrinking in her own skin, but not shying away from the more animated Gretchen. Heather seemed awed by Feral. Nick, sneaking glances at Maria and wincing, looking away. The dynamics of the group was fascinating. I touched them lightly, keeping a passive eye on the mood.

We didn't really know each other. Not yet. We were still mostly strangers, temporary friends placed together in a room.

"So, has anyone actually played Chinese checkers before?" Nick asked, idly regarding the board, which seemed to be short two blue pegs and a yellow. For the purposes of a game we had a spare cap long orphaned from its marker, the shoe from monopoly, and one of the white pegs from battleship. There were a lot of games in the cupboard.

"You mean, does anyone know the rules?" Gretchen said.

"Sure. That." Nick shrugged, fiddling with the little pewter shoe.

"Well, I have!" Kalie said, leaning over, and began demonstrating.

Doctor Ferris had parked herself at one end of the table, and said she didn't want to play. Which was fine, you couldn't play Chinese checkers with more than eight people anyway. I suspected that was intentional- to see what we did. I could still sense that impression of assessment from her, that sense of patience. And now she was stepping back and... watching and seeing what happens, before too much time and effort was wasted on a lost cause.

I was seated between Kalie and Elle now, Mimi had migrated to a place between Nick and Gretchen. Almost everyone had shifted seating, except Maria who still sat in her original chair and had not moved at all, though she looked at the board with vague interest. Heather's waving arms distract me momentarily.

Heather was weird. She both was and was not one of my closer friends here- we shared a ward and some of our schedule and I'd seen her every day since I'd started mingling with the patient population, right out the gate from day one. She was not quite a stranger- but she wasn't not quite close either. We were... different. I liked to retreat and think, she liked to jump in and engage head first.

Gretchen both was and was not a friend- in a different way. It was strange to watch her, because she was a lot like Heather. She pestered Heather and Feral fairly regularly; and to my surprise, Mimi as well. But she wasn't like Heather.

"You ever play?" Gretchen asked.

"Uh, once, years ago." Mimi asked, nervous and shy, and maybe a little bit pleased in spite of it all. She was being included. Gretchen was drawing Mimi out, instead of pushing herself deeper in.

The board was set up, Kalie explained the rules. They were remarkably simple. We started to play, moving counter clockwise around the table. When the cycle reached Elle, she hesitated, her hand on the table twitching.

"Go on Elle!" Heather said.

Elle slowly, hesitantly moved one peg, selected a hole. With painful slowness, she pushed her peg in. She leaned back, still holding my hand, and then simmered in frustration.

"So, you've had groups before, right?" Nick asked, asked Feral.

"Yeah. We still keep in touch." Kalie said, moving a piece, "We check in on each other all the time."

That reminded me, "How many patients are released?" I interjected, "Do you know? I looked it up online, and I couldn't get any hard numbers. Or names."

"I don't know everyone who's released, you know?" Kalie said with a shrug.

I frowned a little, "I want to look up success stories. Get a perspective."

Kalie paused, scratching her cheek thoughtfully, and I could feel her hesitation- multiple sentiments warring. "Well, I can talk to you. Whenever you'd like."

I opened my mouth, then closed it, "Thanks." I could work with that, right?

Still, it niggled. I empathized with Elle. Feral sniffed and gave me a knowing look.

"I can look at some case files with you, but you'll need to get authorization for anything more than just... You know, talking."

"I'm afraid that's so." Doctor Ferris added, "The protection of secret identities is very important at Alchemilla, you have to sign non-disclosure agreements just to get on the janitorial staff. There's a maze of red tape for actual psychologists and psychiatrists, and I've personally known many- good people, who were dismissed for breaking them." She gave me an apologetic smile, "I'll make a request, but it might take some time to get anything."

I nodded, looking down as Maria marched one lone peg across the board with a vague smile.

("This little peggy went to market... and then a beast ate him." Gretchen narrated.)

"Would you like to make that a subject of another meeting?" Doctor Ferris asked.

That made me more optimistic. "Yes, thank you."

Nick leaned forward to better speak around Mimi. "Should we be making group assignments? Or a schedule, or something?"

"That might be a good idea." I said.

"What order are we going in?" he asked.

Doctor Ferris said nothing, and I glanced her way. Her emotions were muted and distant. She was observing, she was... She was letting us have a hand in what the group was going to be?

"Here, let's just get a schedule written," Kalie said.

I jotted my name down- with a short note 'Success stories, w/ Kalie'. It was second on the list, after Heather's.

I guessed Heather would want... I actually didn't know. I knew she liked sports, maybe we'd take a group meeting in the gym. That might be cool.

"Wait! Wait!" Heather said, grinning, "I got an idea."

There was a light in her eyes. It was easy to imagine she just had an idea, something she thought would be fun. But probably also a very bad idea to try and actually do. Like pokeing a bear, maybe. I was learning so much about Heather.

"Idea?" Nick asked.

"It's very important to strategize." Heather said, "See, I really don't think Mims and Elle here want to deal with more time in the medium security bin of bullshit!"

"Bullshit!" agreed Elle. Heather laughed and patted Elle's head.

Strategize. "What's your idea?" I asked cautiously.

"Doc." Heather said, "Mims and Elle are still going to and from medium security, right?"

"Um, yes, I believe." Doctor Ferris said.

"What about getting them rooms up here?" Heather asked.

Doctor Ferris blinked, I did too.

"That's very considerate Heather, but I can't promise anything. I can tell you it's something that's been discussed extensively with her case doctors. It is something we're pushing for, but I really can't promise anything more."

Heather shrugged, "I know being bored really gets to me. Can't imagine it'd be any better for you two," she nodded to Mimi, "We can hang out more and shit." There was definitely a duplicitous undertone I was sensing from her, but she did have a point.

It occurred to me that, while most of the circle probably knew of each other in passing, most of them weren't anything more than acquaintances. I didn't really know Heather well. Even though I'd known her longer, I'd spent more time with Mimi and Elle- everyone else were almost strangers.

"That would be a great." Doctor Ferris said, "Mimi, Elle, we could make that a middling objective to work towards for our next meeting."

"That's not for a week." Heather said.

"Week!" Elle said. Earning a pat from Heather.

Doctor Ferris sighed, "Heather don't be like that, you know how this works. I have to pass requests like that up the line."

"Yeah, yeah." Heather said, and moved a peg.

I glanced across the table. Nick went, then Gretchen. Mimi moved, nervously glancing around the circle of faces as she did so. Elle moved, slowly, laboriously.

"Our hour is almost up," Gretchen said.

"Heck yeah," Heather groused, "Board games? We're super heroes! We should be using our powers and shit. It's all bullshit,"

"Bullshit!" Fond ruffle of Elle's hair.

"Stop teaching Elle to curse!" Mimi exclaimed in dismay.

Elle glanced at Mimi and gave a little hrumph.

"Elle here is just a sweet little bundle of joy. Well maybe that's stretching it. You're cool to hang out with though." Heather cooed. She pinched Elle's cheeks lightly. In response, Elle leaned back slightly- surprised and a little bit offended.

Gretchen laughed, and Kalie grinned slightly. Mimi looked fretful, and, to my other senses, was torn between shying away and joining in. I knew the feeling myself sometimes, with Emma in a crowd. Wanting friends, but not managing that jump.

I wasn't too worried about Elle getting offended. Elle holding a grudge against Heather or Gretchen was a little like a tiny kitten holding a grudge, and throwing up in your shoes. Might be annoying, but ultimately harmless.

Elle batted Heather's hand away with a clumsy wave of her hand, frowning and scowling. She was really annoyed now.

"Aww... Too bad." Heather pouted.

"Don't pinch her cheeks." Mimi mumbled.

"Why not?"

"She hates stuff like that." Mimi said, "She... She's all there. Not slow in her head, or anything. She just can't connect the same way we can." Mimi scowled, and I felt the faintest tremor in her power, the pendulum rocking in the background speeding up.

Heather laughed, and I remembered her pushing the heavy woman that first day; I prepared to step in and redirect the rise I felt in Mimi's temper.

I almost jumped when Maria leaned forward, Everyone at the table did. Maria had watched silently for most of the meeting. I think she couldn't have spoken more than three times. And even now, her face was completely, perfectly expressionless. "Is she amusing to you?"

"Yeah." Heather said carefully, "She's totally adorable."

"No! No, she isn't!" Mimi seethed.

"Quiet, cinnamon child."

Mimi blinked, bewildered, "I... What?"

"Well!" Doctor Ferris said, standing with a smile that was only slightly forced. She gathered up her notes.

"Our time is up, I think. And this looks like a good point to leave off." She looked down at the board, Looks like you win, Taylor."

I stared at the board, I hadn't been paying attention. I had three pegs in my end of the board. I hadn't been paying attention.


	29. Eyas 4-5

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I was thoughtful as we put the chairs and table away, Elle's hand in mine as I carried the game box back to the cabinet. And after, I stood with Elle's hand in mine, but my mind was far away.

"Heather, a moment." Doctor Ferris said, and Heather stayed after. I guessed it was to talk about next week's meeting. I hoped Doctor Ferris let Heather pick something a little more physical. She didn't have to act the way she did, but... She really was miserable and bored. Nick hovered, a pace away, indecisive.

By the door Mimi was fidgeting, cornered by Kalie and Gretchen, with Maria standing silently in tow. Mimi was nervous, but... Not anxious any more, not poised to jump out of her own skin. Yes!

"We totally ought to hang out more." Gretchen said.

Mimi hunched her shoulders, looking for an escape, but it was just habit. I could feel it, she was surprised and pleased, and confused. Her power vibrated only mildly and distantly.

"I-I don't know," she mumbled.

"Come on, I can't be burned." Gretchen laughed, "It'll be fun!"

I wondered when was the last time Mimi had a friend she couldn't hurt. I hesitated, a moment of shyness before I sized the idea I knew had to happen.

"Hey Gretchen!" I said, stepping in, smiling and trying to hide how awkward it made me feel. Like I'd grown an extra leg and it left me hobbling every step.

"Ah, hey! Taylor, right?" Gretchen beamed, "It's going to be a little weird trying to keep everyone's names straight now."

"I wouldn't mind if it's just Taylor, everywhere. I don't really see the point in having two names. I never was a cape." Mimi let out a quiet sigh of relief as attention diverted from her, "Mimi, Elle, and I were all headed over to Doctor Widmark's. We're putting on a play, Mimi and Elle are going to be in it. Probably Nick and Heather too. You interested?"

Kalie grinned, "Cool, want to check it out?"

Gretchen glanced at Kalie, who gave her an encouraging nod, then at Maria, "Eh, whatever, sure."

"Sweet." Kalie said, "Come on Maria, let's check it out."

Kalie reached out and snagged Maria's arm and Maria serenely allowed herself to be led. Kalie was out in front, Maria along with her. I led Elle, her hand in mine. I touched on them as we walked, pushing out into the floor plan, experimenting. My senses expanded and wandered to the rooms around us, my mental framework of the floor plan. Doctor Widmark was the patient activities director, and his office was just down the hallway.

My probing touched on several familarities inside and... A negative space, I missed a step. All across my arms, the small hairs stood on end

"Mantellum?"

"Hm?" Kalie slowed. Everyone stopped.

"Um. I can sense some of the capes at Doctor Widmark's." I said, picking out motes of familiarity, little lights to the dimmer background, "I've met them before. Monster capes, Quilt, Frog, Prowler... Inkling."

"Not happy customers." Gretchen supplied.

Kalie shrugged, "Let's go say hi."

We reached the door to Doctor Widmark's office. There was a piece of paper taped to it, 'Itinerary meeting, come in!'.

Kalie pushed open the door. Doctor Widmark's office was dominated by a large whiteboard that took up one entire wall. Two others had bookshelves. His desk was tucked apologetically into one corner, almost hidden by folders and books. Many of which dealt is subjects like 'Drama Therapy', and every variant of creative therapy crowded the shelves and most level suraces.

The center of the room was taken by a wide fan of folding chairs. About half of which were already occupied. Quilt, Frog, and Oilbloom looked up when the door opened.

Inkling was seated in the furthest corner, staring at her feet. She didn't look up.

On the other end of the room, by the whiteboard, Prowler and Doctor Widmark talked; framed in blocky words 'FALL ACTIVITIES ITINERARY'. Doctor Widmark himself was a narrow, wiry man with brown hair and a widow's peak just beginning to bald. His eyes were sharp, and his face dominated by a roman nose, combined with his slightly hunched posture reminded me vaguely of a large predatory bird. Which was ironic, as he was very softspoken, warm, and gently inquisitive.

"Ah Welcome!" He said, waving the new arrivals over, "Have a seat, have a seat. We're almost ready to start. We're still missing a couple heads, might as well wait. We have a few minutes."

Without missing a step Kalie dove in, she led and spearheaded the group. Everyone was pulled along in her orbit as she made a beeline for Quilt. Gretchen was right behind her.

"Hi!" Kalie grinned, right there, offering her hand. Quilt seemed a little taken aback. After a moment of hesitation, Quilt reached out and took her hand; stiffened, just a hair, when she felt the points of Kalie's claws gently press against her wrist. I knew the feeling.

"Oh, um." I took a step forward, "This is Quilt, Oilbloom, Inkling, Frog, Prowler..."

"I'm Kalie. Feral, whichever. Good to meet you!"

"Uh. You too?"

Gretchen popped her head right through Kalie's chest, starling a yelp from Quilt. Kalie sighed, "This is Tulpa."

Quilt nodded once, slowly, "Hello Gretchen. We've met."

"You have?" Kalie glanced at Gretchen, askance. I knew that look. Mom used it on me once or twice. Gretchen gave her a sheepish smile.

"We bonded over Peat and Fen's show."

Someone snorted. Quilt looked and felt a cross between flattered and embarrassed.

"We watched a Peat and Fen video!" Getchen said, "It was great, they lifted a ranger's jeep outta a ditch. We oughtta all watch their show together."

"...Peat and Fen?" I interjected.

"They're two case fifty-threes, like us." Oilbloom said, "They travel all over the United States, they've got all kinds of blogs and fanclubs following them."

"They're awesome and get to go everywhere like wandering demon samurai!" Gretchen was bouncing on a chair now, I watched to reach out and steady her. But of course, she couldn't tip over the chair if she tried.

"They've done interviews and they talk about where they've gone and who they've seen, sometimes where they're going. They show up in the news. Junior stuff, mostly. All of it pretty heroic."

"There haven't been any sightings in a few weeks though." Quilt said, "Some of us are getting really worried."

"Where are they now?"

"They were moving through Arizona."

"There was a post on the fansite, there's going to be a live stream tomorrow. We should totally get together and watch it"

Out of the corner of my eye the door opened, admitting Nick and Heather. "Still waiting for one! Make yourselves comfortable."

Heather immediately joined us, trailing Nick in her wake. I could feel her mood, much improved after talking to Doctor Ferris. I took that as a good sign.

"What's up?"

"Peat and Fen." Oilbloom said.

"...Case fifty-three?" I asked meekly. It sounded familiar, like I'd seen in in passing, but I was drawing a blank.

Everyone turned and stared at me, and I was uncomfortably reminded of school, when a teacher called someone up in front of the class and they didn't know the answer to a question. I squirmed a little under the scrutiny.

"It's, like, monster capes." Gretchen said.

Kalie glared at her, and tried to swat the back of her head. Naturally, it her hand passed right through. Gretchen blinked and looked up at Kalie innocently.

"No." Quilt frowned, glaring at Gretchen.

"It's what the PRT calls us; capes with major mutations, like ours." Oilbloom explained.

I was... Senseing something complicated in there. She was guarded, wasn't telling us everything. I could feel the anxiety radiating off of Quilt.

"All right!" There was a clap, and evry eye turned towards Doctor Widmark. He was done talking to Prowler, and stepped towards the chairs. "Glad you could make it, Marionette."

I looked for the diminutive girl, and only just caught a glimpse of Marionette daintily weaving through the chairs at knee height. Prowler was moving to sit.

It looked like we were ready to start.

Trusting Kalie to run herd on Heather, I steered Elle towards a gap, next to Quilt and Oilbloom. Elle was sitting next to the girls, and on the other side, I was sitting next to Mantellum.

My head was starting to hurt a little. Bleed over from all the different personalities I was reading off of, or Heather. Everyone had their meds hours ago, it shouldn't be that. But I could feel their presence in my power, bright and strong, I'd attuned to them so deeply by now. It felt like they were throwing shadows in my head. Especially Mimi and Elle.

There was another brief round of introductions. We didn't make long introductions for ourselves, or talk about powers, or where we came from. Doctor Widmark simply pointed out who he had been working with before, and who was new. Quilt, Frog, Prowler, and Inkling were all previous attendees. All of them from Lizard Prince's circle. But also Gretchen, and Kalie had worked with the committee before as well, I was completely unsurprised.

Heather, incidentally, had worked with the Summer Activities Committee and actually gotten kicked out, which prompted a raised eyebrow and a pointed look from me. Heather supplied the information herself, which drew an exasperated sigh from Doctor Widmark.

He went on to talk about a couple points. Activities for the holidays, smaller weekly events, clubs and elective therapies. Most I hadn't known about. Apparently there was a Thanksgiving dinner event that was a big deal, Protectorate heroes came in to visit and everything. The most immediate event, the big point, and the point that had Elle bouncing in her seat, was that we were going to pick a play.

It wasn't a huge deal. Heather was right in comparing it to a school play, I think. But that didn't need to b a bad thing. Small steps contributing to a great distance didn't need to be impressive. Not at first. It just needed to get done.

Nick fidgeted, anxious and indecisive.

I tried to stay focused on Doctor Widmark, but found my mind wandering. Everyone felt like... Like embers in a fire, I could feel the heat off them. Except it was anxiety and fear and doubts, and nervous energy I couldn't get rid of. It had my knee bouncing. Where I sat. I still felt... Happy? Not down, it was uncomfortable but Elle was full of childlike joy, it bled off into me a little.

The others were... They weren't doing badly. My skillful maneuvering meant that Mimi had been forced to sit with Kalie and Gretchen, and Kalie was including her. Quilt was on her other side, talking with Nick and Oilbloom and... I missed Marionette at first, she was perched on one of the bookshelves apart from the group. My power still didn't work on her right. Come to think of it, my power didn't work on a lot of people in Alchemilla. There was Marionette. Charnel, Maria, whichever. I couldn't sense her real well. Like Marionette. Mantellum. It was frustrating

I pushed out a bit, touching each of them again, then the ones I could feel-

Heather was- a firework.

I was feeling more awake than I had ever thought possible. Energy poured into me from a bottomless well, filling me. It was like the first time I'd ever tried coffee, everything felt lighter. Dad had been a jerk, he'd let me try his espresso. It was like this but better, not bitter, and so clear. I felt like I could do anything! See everything. I should be running! Or hang-gliding! Or swimming! Or-

What just happened?

I swayed a little- that... What? I was dizzy. Dizzy. Who- I was holding Elle's hand, I focused on-

Time felt sluggish. Everything was muted and quiet, I felt like I was watching everyone from far away. Suddenly everyone had moved. How odd. But I... I felt great. My mind was thinking much faster. I wished I'd felt like this back in the hospital. Then I wouldn't have needed to come here after... After the accident... Cars... I wouldn't have needed to be here for two years-

I... I... I hadn't been here two years. What was Mimi saying, she was touching my shoulder. 'Are you alright?' What kind of made-up language was that? Why didn't she just-

No.

No, stop that.

It hurt, pulling in, tamping down and smothering what my power was feeding me. Chaining it back until it was something ignorable again. Just a distant conversation I didn't want to listen to. It wasn't supposed to hurt, was it?

My head was pounding, the lights were too bright and the world too loud. I was again reminded of when dad had given me my first taste of coffee, but this was the headache afterwards.

What was that?

"Are you all right?"

I opened my eyes and blinked up at Mimi. I was confused for a moment. Her face swam, everything was distorted. At first I didn't recognize her.

What was that? It had felt... I had felt like the first time I'd read off Mimi, the first time when she'd been on her meds, but worse. So much worse.

"I... I'll be fine, Mimi." I mumbled. I tilted my head, looking across the chairs. Everyone was standing. Heather was already gone, she wouldn't have stuck around somewhere boring. Nick had probably gone with her. Kalie, Gretchen, and Maria were talking with Oilbloom, Quilt, and Doctor Widmark. I didn't see Marionette.

How much time did I lose?

"Are you sure you are all right?" Mimi asked, "You haven't said anything for almost an hour. You just... Sat there holding Elle's hand."

Just- an hour? How? I glanced down. I wasn't holding Elle's hand now, I'd let go of it at some point.

"All right- let's..." I tried to stand. It was slower than it should have been. "Mimi, can you take Elle?"

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

We headed to the sunroom. I felt exhausted, like I needed a nap. But also energized, like I'd drank a gallon of caffeine. Everything felt wrong, but my mind was buzzing with questions. My power had never done anything like that before, and it shook me, shook me more than I could articulate with words. It was like waking up one day and suddenly breathing required my undivided attention.

All wrong.

Mimi led Elle. I could feel worry, anxiety from both of them. I tried to stamp it out, bury it; it reminded me of my own, and made it worse. I could hardly think.

Silence.

I sat down, eyes closed, head throbbing. Mimi's anxiety and Elle's worry pounding and echoing inside my skull.

And then, just like that, it was gone. It felt cool, like I had held my face to a furnace, and now the heat was gone and my skin felt cool where it had been feverish. I breathed out in a sigh, grateful.

"Mimi?"

"Yes?"

"Could you take Elle and..." I fumbled for an excuse, "Get me a glass of water? I just need a second, I'll be fine."

I heard them go, then opened my eyes and looked up.

Mantellum. He was sitting at one of the wall couches, reading a book. I watched him furtively, out of the corner of my eye. I'd talked to him before, but I took him in with new eyes was kind of skinny. His hood was draped flat around his shoulders, and his arms were folded on his lap. He reached out and turned a page, looked up and caught me watching.

I looked away quickly. Then I felt bad about looking away, what was I afraid of? I screwed up my courage and stood, walking over to him.

"Hey."

Mantellum looked up again, his hands shifting on his lap, "'lo."

He was almost hairless, with only a sharp tuft at the top of his head, like a mohawk. He didn't even have eyebrows or eyelashes. That, with the scales and the hood, I expected his eyes to be yellow and narrow like a snake's, instead they were a surprisingly human brown.

"You all right?"

"Yeah." I blinked at the sudden question.

"Did it help?"

"What?"

"Your power was, I dunno, it was reaching out and pinging everything." He pointed with both hands under the back of his book, "I tried quieting it down, did it help?"

"You can sense powers?"

"Just powers that I block." He said. He set the book down and leaned forward on his elbows, on his knees. "I felt yours back there, you know. Back at Widmark's, you were doing something weird. So, you feeling all right now?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

My headache was gone, like I'd never had it. Everything was clearer. He'd called it 'quieting', and it did feel quieter. The sensation of distant conversations was gone, absent. Muted.

It still reminded me of the Masked Man, but I was too relived to care.

I gingerly settled on the next sofa over, sitting on my hands and trying to feel as casual as I hoped it looked and I thought about the stillness and how it meshed with what I knew of his power.

I'd only felt something like it the once, but I'd been burned and half-delirious at the time. "This is just one field, right?"

"Yeah." Mantellum leaned back, "You want me to stop?"

"...I'd rather you didn't." I said at last, "My power can get really oppressive, sometimes. I had a lot of trouble controlling it, tuning out stuff. I think... I think I was just feeling overwhelmed. I wouldn't mind doing without it for a few minutes." It became a question, and I glanced at Mantelum.

"Sure, no problem." He leaned forward and picked up his book, and reached up to scratch at the edge of his fringe with one finger.

His fingers ended in claws, like Feral's, like Kalie's. The skin around his one patch of hair was mottled yellow, like his belly and arms. The back of his neck was darker, the scales denser, thicker, and larger.

"You look curious." He said after a moment, after I'd let the silence stretch a little too long, "You can look, if you want, I don't mind. You are allowed."

"Um..." I scrambled. In moments like this, I cursed my awkwardness genes. I'd inherited Mom's hair and Dad's awkwardness. "I guess you get that a lot?"

"What? Curiosity, or Thinkers trying to use their powers on me?" He smiled. His teeth were unnervingly pointed, and I still couldn't detect any emotion from him... But maybe that was humor? He joked about it?

Maybe the joke made it easier, but I unclenched a little inside. I smiled back, "Either? Uh, both?"

His tail stirred, re-coiling around his ankles, "Either. And both." He echoed, "It's not too bad. Some of us have it real bad. At least my powers are, uh... Unobtrusive? And powers don't work on me, so that's made some stuff a lot easier."

"Powers don't... You mean in general?"

"Yeah. I count as one of my fields, or something. So nothing works on me directly." He shrugged before smiling again.

He smiled again, the pointed-teeth thing was fading a bit, smiling back felt more natural.

There was the sound of briskly moving feet, and I looked up to find a nurse walking in, hard on the heels of a very frazzled Mimi. Elle walked behind her, one hand in Mimi's and gamely keeping pace. In Mimi's free hand was clutched a plastic cup of water.

"Taylor, I told the nurse you weren't feeling well, and asked if you could have some tylenol, but she said she would need to be present when you take it!" Mimi stopped and handed me the cup in her hands, "I got your water!" She held it out.

"Thank you Mimi." Her face was pinched in worry. I wondered how long she had been trying to talk to me, back in Doctor Widmark's office. My head felt fine now, but I wasn't sure what would happen when Mantellum pulled back his power.

"Drink it slowly honey," the nurse said, this one was a redheaded woman in her thirties, "Is it your time of the month?"

"No, I think it was a Thinker power thing. I just got overwhelmed." Over the nurse's shoulder I caught sight of Mantellum slipping out to the cafeteria. How was he so quiet?

Slowly, the feeling of stillness began to fade. "I... I'm feeling a lot better, but better safe than sorry." Mantellum turned and gave me a wink, and I wasn't sure...

But it felt a little like a few private moments I'd shared with Emma, like we shared a secret.

"I've been having headaches, I think it might be a power thing." I said.

"Well, drink your water. We'll take you up to talk to one of the doctors. Okay honey?"

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Doctor Fox wanted to run some tests, and afterwards asked me questions. A lot of questions. Mostly about if I'd ever had episodes like it before, and if I remembered having headaches before I gained my powers and if it had changed at all. He stopped to consult notes twice.

It... It wasn't like with Doctor Yamada or Doctor Selmy. It reminded me of a few other times, times I'd worked with Doctor Werneck and thought he'd been unfeeling. Clinical.

I knew it wasn't that simple. Werneck wasn't bad. And, I had felt Doctor Fox before, felt him emphatic and understanding. Felt him helping myself, and others. Not everyone could be sympathetic or show compassion all the time. And... It was a job for him.

He got up and talked to a nurse regarding meds. I didn't take any, but he asked her to get him my full file, and then file a request with records for files on similar powers for review. Neither of them looked at me. It wasn't horrible or anything. But it was still impersonal, still left me feeling exposed and a little humiliated.

I turned in early that night. Mimi and Elle were understanding, and Kalie promised to watch out for them until curfew. I was glad, I didn't want them cutting back on socializing just because I was having a rough patch myself.

...Kalie wasn't always going to be here. I... I needed someone else to work with them if I was incapacitated again.

I sat in front of my computer, thinking about that. Nick had his hands full with Heather. On a bad day she was as much a handful as Mimi could be, in her own way. Gretchen, maybe? Mimi couldn't hurt Gretchen.

I shook my head, and reached for my keyboard.

Case fifty-three, case fifty-three... Maybe they were impact mutations, from the craters?

Case fifty-three' was a term derived from a PRT case file, and a string of related cases. Capes with prominent physical mutations and- this was the point that tied them all together -no memories. They had no pasts prior to having powers. There was a long, long list of confirmed and probable cases dating back over two decades.

I found a paper on the phenomenon by a PRT analyst- there were other commonalities. They tended to have physical powers, not mental ones. Nearly all of them had at least minimal Brute powers, but in general they tended to be fairly weak.

None of them were big names but they did tend to be noticeable, and cape watchers and the media tended to follow their careers more easily than conventional capes. Weld, he was in the Boston Wards, a shape-shifter made of metal. His page showed a chiseled face and a physique like a Greek sculpture.

There was no clear demographic. Many were young, children. I found a page for what were probably Peat and Fen. They looked like pre-teens, but there were also clear adults, and in one case the oldest parahuman on record. Old Man Of The Mountain.

By that point, my neck was starting to seize up. I leaned back and stretched.

It was a mystery, but more of a curiosity than anything else, I thought.

I lay back on bed, and grabbed a book. Insurance against boredom for later in the evening. The internet was a wellspring of anything needed to sate my curiosity, but my neck just couldn't take that for eight hours.

But I didn't read.

A quick glance around my room and a steadying breath to gather my thoughts by.

The rest of the day had passed uneventfully, but the suspicion had gnawed at me, worried in the back of my mind. The buzzing headache and my missing time. Why had that happened? I'd never felt anything like that before.

If it had followed medication, I would have known what to blame it on. But I had reported what had happened last time, and I thought I had avoided a repeat of the medication incident.

What if it was something else? How would my power have to interact to produce that effect? What similar powers were there, what similar mechanics? Mimi's power was unstable, she had barely any control of it. It effected her emotionally and mentality, effected her brain chemistry. What if my power was like that? Nothing like that had been found in testing, before, when I arrived.

But, I hadn't exactly wanted to use my power a lot, not back then. Did it react to me, my mentality, or my circumstances in some subtle way I hadn't detected before?

Regardless, it was a bad, bad sign that Mantellum cutting me off had stopped it, that I had needed it to be quieted that way. And it left me shaken.

The unease didn't leave me over the night, and in the morning, breakfast found me still unsatisfied and anxious


	30. Eyas 4-6

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The next day was slow, I had creative therapy and another group meeting, cooking this time. It was strange, the idea of a parahuman being taught to cook. I found myself looking forward to Gretchen and Quilt's stream.

I didn't use the computer lab after dinner much, I had a computer in my room now and that was when the computer lab was busiest. But now a small crowd was gathered around one computer station and about half the chairs in the room had been pulled up in a half circle in front of it. It was the largest crowd I'd ever seen in the computer lab.

The supervising nurse was watching from the lab's front desk, and there was an energy in the air...The eclectic mix of patients had mingled; Lizard Prince's case fifty-threes were sitting with Kalie's little knot of sidekicks, I could see the top of Mimi's head, and felt Elle nearby. I spotted Mantellum in the mix with the rest of Quilt's group, Quilt herself waved to me a little. Inkling on the periphery, still brooding. Kalie was leaning against one of the booths, arms folded over her chest, overseeing things and playing the responsible adult.

Some of the other stations were in use, Tagout and Copperquick. The girl with the glassgow grin was playing some kind of game, I think. The screen was colorful... Copperquick was typing furiously, with tight focus. I thought Tagout might have glanced back at me once, quickly.

"Taylor, hurry, it's almost time to start!" Heather called from close to the front.

"Anything happen while I was gone?" I asked, sitting down. As a latecomer I was seated a bit back from the screen, in the second row of seats. Mimi and Elle were in the first row, directly in front of me, and Mimi turned to talk. On the screen, colorful lights and... I think a short cartoon was playing out?

"It's just the intro," Quilt said.

"A fan made it for them!" Gretchen said. "They don't have a lot of stuff that's their own, you know? Always on the road."

A pair of colorful cartoon figures trotted across the screen, and I had a moment of disconcert when I realized they were probably representative of the two parahumans in question. I'd watched Protectorate Pals when I was little; and yes, there had been moments when I'd wondered if I'd ever have cartoons made about me if I gained powers.

Peat and Fen were living that dream.

The sequence ended and was replaced with the feed from a camera.

"Hi! Hi! Hi!"

The voice was young. Much younger than I was expecting, much younger than the pictures I'd found. Eight or nine, with a bit of a lisp. The camera wobbled, a lot. For a few moments all I could see was a confusion of shadows and daylight, and a brief glimpse of blue sky before the cameraman's hand steadied.

...I immediately guessed that was Fen. I leaned forward and tried to pick out detains through the shaky camera work.

Fen was a small girl- the camera only caught her head and shoulders, and she craned her neck to be seen that much. She had a pair of straight pinion horns that reminded me of a gazelle, rising above her eyes at the hairline and curving back over her head; black at their bases, reddening towards the points. Her eyes were very wide and violet, her skin was a peculiar shade of dark blue-grey. With the camera so close to her face I noted it had a soft sheen, like velvet, it might have been a sheer layer of short fur.

"Oh. She's adorable," Kalie muttered, then, "What-"

The front row stiffened, and I heard a quiet gasp from Oilbloom.

I could see what had startled her. One of those eyes was half closed with swelling. The white, where it was visible behind the swelling, was an alarming, angry red. Her wide smile sported a gap, she was missing a tooth and had a square patch of gauze taped over her cheek.

A ripple passed through the room. The case fifty-three contingent immediately closed ranks. Oilbloom started whispering furiously to Quilt, Mantellum sat up straight, and Inkling stood, moving to look over the front row's shoulders with bared teeth.

"Fen here from Jerome Arizona! Sorry for our absence viewers! Peat and I have had an exciting couple weeks down here!" She proclaimed a little too loudly. The camera swayed wildly again, when it stabilized I could see a wide expanse of lawn, and, as she spun, a steepled church and wide sign. I read '3rd Street Haven of-' before the camera panned away again.

"Fen, dear, you're going to give them motion sickness."

The camera settled as the new speaker took it, a woman I didn't recognize. Black hair, a ruddy complexion, like she worked outdoors a lot. A medium build and checkered red and black flannel shirt.

"Sorry! Usually Peat does the camera."

"It's all right, sweetie."

"That reminds me. Don't worry viewers, Peat's fine!" Fen added.

The camera focused on Fen and I caught my first glimpse of her whole body. Like Oilbloom, like Quilt, Frog, and Prowler she was different. It was more than just a power thing, though, I think her transformation had effected her more drastically than them. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt with the Protectorate logo on the front, slightly less baggy shorts, and a pair of flip-flops.

The t-shirt looked like a tent, and Fen could have probably worn it like a dress. The expansive cotton garment hung off one shoulder and over her arms, which poked out from underneath, thin like twigs. Her limbs looked like they'd been stretched out, like taffy. I had a build like a stick, but Fen's arms were long and too slender and all black. That extended to her body, which was stretched out and narrowed. She had to keep the shorts up with a belt.

"Yeah!" Fen crowed, "We ran inna some really nasty bad guys. Mister Book says they're called the Fallen! They wanted to take our horns, but Haven stopped 'em!" Fen stepped in front of the camera, waving her arms.

"Peat! Peat! Show everyone you're all right!"

The perspective jiggled wildly again, "Careful honey, I'll drop it."

It settled on a boy sitting on the short, decorative stone wall running around the lawn's perimeter. At least I thought it was a boy, he was wearing a t-shirt too, and jeans, but his face was covered in gaze and tape. A ring of gauze circled and braced the flattened tip of an obviously broken nose between two tremendously swelling black eyes. One of which was partially hidden behind a patch of gauze. Numerous smaller bandages covered his arms, hands, and face. There was less exposed skin than bandage!

Perhaps most alarmingly, a neck brace supported his head, and one arm was in a sling.

Peat also had horns, and something that looked very much like leaves instead of hair. But where Fen's horns were a single curved pair like a goat's or a gazelle's- Peat's horns were a double pair that twisted in spirals up from his head. I couldn't place what they looked like. If Fen looked twiggy, Peat looked kind of like an actual tree.

Peat raised his one good arm and offered a thumbs-up. "I'm good," he croaked.

The tension in the room started to ease, just a little bit at a time. It was gradual, the source was not gone; worry, fear, anger, outrage. But it had hit, I felt, some kind of high-water mark.

The Fallen... I knew about the Fallen. They were a villain organization in the southern United States, kind of a cult. They had this thing, they worshiped the Simurgh, and wanted to... I think they wanted to become Endbringers too? They were obsessed with the craters, and sometimes they made expeditions into them. Pilgrimages.

There was something big a couple years back, they attacked alongside an Endbringer, I think, that was a big deal.

Actually, now that I thought about it, why were they still around? Attacking with an Endbringer ought to have brought the Protectorate down on them like a ton of bricks.

Movement on the screen distracted me. Fen's bright smile intruded on my thoughts. "Let's introduce Haven!"

An energetic tour followed Fen as she showed off the public-accessible portions of Haven's headquarters. And introduced the people. "This is Rosary, and Halo. Chalice. Penitent. Cloister. And Mister Book." Fen pointed them out. Colorful costumes and personalities, I tried to keep track of all of them so I could look them up later.

"You shoulda seen 'em." Fen said, "Halo blasted 'em with lasers, and Cloister put up force fields, and Rosary dropped a big Truck on 'em!"

Fen wrapped her arms around Rosary, who looked a little like a nun in a rose-and-gold habit. Rosary herself looked a little flustered. One of the women, in a brown robe and cloak with crenelations worked into the collar stepped forward, I think that was Cloister.

"Easy honey," She said, "You thinking of cutting this short? You need to be resting."

"Yeah, I'm concussed still." Fen said, and swayed, just a little bit. Had she been swaying all along? I wasn't sure...

"Me an' Peat just wanted to say something rel quick for our followers. Ready Peat?"

Peat stepped into frame with Fen, and he was definitely swaying. Cloister set a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you for getting Peat all bandaged up." Fen said, and for the first time I saw her without her toothy grin, "I... I don't think We'd have made it without them."

"If I ever meet the thug that did that to you, I'll knock his teeth out!" Cloister said, voice shaking with anger.

"I hit 'im with a stool!"

Cloister looked a little taken aback. She settled on, "Well... Well, violence is never the answer dear."

Peat spoke up, "You saved us. Saved me and Fen. I won't forget it, mam, sir."

Book nodded slowly, reached out and set and hand on each of their shoulders. He was a big man, broad-shouldered, and very tall, dressed in a pastor's vestments. His hair was iron grey and his face deeply lined, but he didn't wear a mask. Tiny Fen looked even smaller next to him. "You have both been very brave, an inspiration to us all." he rumbled.

Fen reached up and touched his hand. Peat reached up and grasped Book's arm with his good hand.

Book turned to address the camera, "I want to make something very clear to anyone watching this video. The Fallen are extremely dangerous. I don't want any well-meaning, good people going after them. They have a parahuman, a Stranger and Master, very powerful. Do not approach them, do not seek them out."

Book was solemn as the grave, and the faces of the Haven I could see were tight and pinched.

The Fallen were pretty well known, but I didn't know much about Haven. They had a religious theme, and I knew they were based in the southern US. I didn't know much more. I'd need to look them up later.

Soon enough, Fen was wrapping up the show; singing some little nonsense song about adventuring with friends.

"Say bye!" Fen called in a musical sing-song.

Book knelt own beside her and gave a hearty farewell, accompanied by a chorus of farewells from the Haven capes.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Monster capes know each other," Sveta had said, "We seek each other out."

Inkling was shaking slightly where I saw her- bent over between Oilbloom and Quilt, the three of them whispering. Frog had his hand on Prowler's back. Mantellum was standing, arms tense at his sides and his hood partially extended. The blank spot around him fluctuated rapidly.

My attention remained divided between what was happening on the screen, and what was happening around me. The emotions and conversations. A volatile mixture of anger, fear, and anxiety; the case fifty-three crowd ran the gamut.

The Fallen had attacked Peat and Fen. Two children. If all monster capes knew each other, they had to be the babies of the group.

I tried to imagine the kind of connection, that these people had, to share that pain so readily. Then I looked over at Mimi, who hunched in on herself, sitting with Elle. I tried to imagine how I'd feel if someone went after Elle.

As soon as the video ended, Inkling let out a string of curses, stood up straight, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the computer lab. The rest of us awkwardly trailed after her. I kept a hand on both Mimi and Elle. Emotions all around me were dark, morose. Out ahead, I could feel Inkling, and Quilt following her, bubbling concern the whole way. Inkling's emotions were riding high. Anger despair, frustration...

As soon as she was past the door, a dam broke.

"Fuckers!" Her distant scream reached through the door as it swung behind her.

Without meaning to, we all followed in their wake, gravitating towards the cafeteria. There were enough of us that we took up a whole table. Maria just stood at the end, though.

Mimi was combing her fingers through Elle's hair in preparation to braid it. Everyone else had broken off into smaller knots of conversation.

I kept one eye on Quilt, as she guided Inkling to one of the couches in the sun room. Once seated, Inkling crumpled, her head in her hands, the both of them talking.

"It's so fucking typical!"

"They'll be okay, Ink. Haven are good people."

"It's the same fucking story every time!" she hissed, "Sideshow freaks, you point at them and stare at them, why not throw rocks at them, hear them squeal too!"

I watched them.

"We've all been there, Ink," Quilt said. "Deep breaths."

"I miss Patrick."

Quilt's hand ran in little circles on Inkling's back.

"I know. Just- just breathe, Ink. Deep breaths..."

I turned away. It felt like... Like I was trespassing. Trespassing on something deeply personal. I could feel her grief, like a bitter scent, like heat radiating off her.

"Are they going to be all right?" Nick asked.

The rest of the table was silent, and, as a consequence, now listening intently and trying not to show it.

"Fucking Cauldron."

Everyone turned to face Mantellum. He was seated at the end of the bench, leaned over, with his elbows on the table, chin on his hands, glaring darkly.

"Who?"

Mantellum frowned, then abruptly my sixth sense cut off, retreated as the invisible negative space expanded , past me and over my awareness. When he spoke it was hushed. Furtive. Like someone would hear.

"Cauldron. Made us." He waved one hand in the general direction of Quilt and Ink, "Gave us powers and killed most of us doing it. Then took away our memories and kicked us out into the world, didn't care if we lived or died, or worse."

"Cauldron's just a myth," Oilbloom said. But she didn't sound entirely sure herself.

"I've heard some weird stuff myself," Kalie said- and she said it with a different tone. She was in Feral mode now, the veteran, professional hero of the Protectorate. Not Kalie Selmy.

"They're like an urban legend. A ghost story. Supposed to be the underground law behind capes. People say they sell powers and other shit."

They sold powers? How?

I knew there had been studies. People had been trying to crack the code on powers since the advent. But no one had succeeded, and I certainly couldn't imagine someone packaging them and selling them. The idea struck me as mildly offensive. I'd gained my powers through suffering. Most of us here had.

Heather snorted, "That's impossible. People can't just buy powers. Everyone would know about something like that."

Kalie shook her head, "It's not even the worst I've heard. People just... disappearing out of witness protection without a trace. Heroes just... vanishing right out of their homes. Whole families..."

"They're real," Mantellum said. "They wipe our memories. Tried to do it to me. They didn't think my power would protect me and I bluffed my way out. They turn us into these things, then let us fend for ourselves. Kids like Peat and Fen... Some of us get lucky, we have powers that are strong enough to keep us alive. Not all of us make it."

He glanced down at his hands, and I realized for the first time, a faint crosshatching pattern of scars cut across his skin where the scales ended. He believed what he was saying. Believed it enough to use his power to keep us from being overheard.

"I thought..." My mouth was dry, I had to stop, and swallowed.

Everyone was looking at me. "Thought what?" Oilbloom asked.

"I thought it was... I don't know, something from the craters. That they were some of the mutants from the meteors or people drinking water or something from them."

"There were a lot of those," Mantellum said, "Not all, but enough. That might be part of the reason they got away with it so long. There's more to it."

Maria sat down on his other side, her face blank and serene as ever, and he actually looked unnerved.

"Hey." he said.

Maria turned and looked at Mantellum, and, after a moment, smiled, "Hello."

Then she... Just stared at him.

We were all still staring at her when Inkling grabbed my hair and spun me around to face her. Her teeth were bared and eyes were streaming, that took me by surprise- her power effected her tears, it was like the most horrific running mascara ever. She pulled my head back, my scalp burning, her sharp teeth gleaming down at me and her bloodshot eyes glinting.

"Ink!" Quilt exclaimed, trotting to catch up with her.

"Patrick... He made me feel like a person, not like some- some freak with tentacles instead of hair. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" She sneered. And her eyes darted towards the table. Mimi. Elle. "You want another villain to hang out with with? Gonna send them to the Birdcage too?"

I raised a hand to grab at her hands fisted in my hair, and all I could hear for a moment was my heart pounding in my ears. I glanced over at Mimi. She retreated, hunching in her shoulders.

"Mimi isn't a villain." I said, trying to turn my head and meet her eyes.

Inkling laughed, "You look her up? She burned her highschool down, she killed half a dozen people. She's a villain. Every one of us are villains. You're a villain." She paused, looking down at her hands, Then suddenly let go.

I fell to the floor, landing hard. I scrambled, crabwalking to the bench and then pulling myself back to my feet with hands at my back. Mantellum and Oilbloom helped me up with hands under my arms.

"Shouldn't hang out with villains like us. You won't get out if you do that." Inkling said. All the heat had vanished from her voice. And just like that, she turned and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving silence behind her.

After a moment, I could feel Mantellum's field pull back and I could sense everyone again. I could sense her again.

I hadn't felt fear like that since the Masked Man. I could hardly hear over the rushing blood in my ears. But I could also feel Inkling.

It was really strange, but watching Peat and Fen's show with them had begun to cement the case fifty-threes as part of my circle of friends. More than just satellite fixtures in my routine. Mantellum and Quilt.

Inkling didn't like me, and I didn't have much reason to like her either. But I was starting to get a better idea what it was like. For Sveta, for Quilt, for Mantellum... Inkling...

And... they were hurting.

I wanted to help them.

Was it because I felt a little guilty? I'd found them out twice. Maybe if I hadn't Lizard Prince wouldn't have been sent to the Birdcage and Inkling wouldn't be crying over him now. Because I could feel how deeply she was hurting from where I stood? I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to know why Lizard Prince affected them so much. Inkling reminded me of Heather a little, very intense. But, that wasn't the right thing to say.

I wondered what this was, why was I so... Unfocused? Why I didn't know what to say and why I never knew what to do. But I wanted to.

Because... Because I felt guilty? Because I wondered if some of that pain was my fault? Because some of that pain felt familiar?

Like my own?

My head hurt.

"Taylor, you all right?" Mimi asked.

I... I was... Frustrated. Energy buzzing behind my eyes. My head... Emotions. Was it my power? Pulling off of Inkling and... and Mimi?

I didn't know. A sharp spike of anger. "I hate this!" I said, "I keep running into questions and I'm not getting answers, and I don't know where to look or what to ask."

I stood, took one step, then found myself with nowhere to go. Then... The gym. I needed to burn off the extra energy. Do something. Anything.

"I'm heading to the gym. I need to think."

I left the others behind, walking quickly. Pushing through the door. I was moving down the hall when Gretchen floated to my elbow, buoyant as only she seemed to manage. I regarded her warily, especially once Heather sidled up on my other side, beaming and devious.

"Hey, you want answers, right?" she asked in a whisper, "You want to know stuff?"

I gave her a narrow-eyed glare, suspicious. "Yes?"

"We can totally break-"

Slowly, but sternly, Gretchen's hand reached out to cover Heather's mouth. She never broke eye contact with me.

"Stay awake tonight," Gretchen whispered, "I'll come for you at eleven." Then both of them turned and darted back towards the cafeteria, leaving me to wonder.


	31. Eyas 4-7

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I didn't seen any of Quilt's group the rest of the day. I could feel them, though, gathered elsewhere. Distant motes of light, knots of complicated feeling. Anger, fear, sorrow. There were spikes of emotion, arguments maybe. Or- possibly catharsis, maybe some of the doctors counceling them. My familiarity wasn't strong enough with them to make the distinction.

That evening I found myself still ruminating on them, and on others. My mind wandered over Alchemilla, over the motes, like watching distant fireflies in the dark.

I wondered what made that one angry. Nick, you're usually the levelheaded one. Though, I wish you weren't so depressed all the time. Or, what made this one happy. Mimi, I really wish I knew what had your spirits up right now. I needed every edge I could get. I wondered, but no insight came as I watched the patients. No sudden realization as I tracked the movement of the guards and staff.

That was the beginning of a headache, I rubbed the bridge of my nose tiredly. Nothing. I might as well be actually staring at the wall... I huffed a quiet sigh, never before had I missed being able to sleep quite like I did now, I needed something else to do.

A box sat on my desk. Books, pens, notebooks I'd requested... With the kind of frustration I was experiencing elsewhere I'd expected them to take longer. But no, here they were... I grabbed the first book off the top of the box and settled down to start reading. After a moment I grabbed one of the notebooks and pens too. Maybe I could make some headway on my costume tonight.

I abandoned the story of Heidi and her grandfather in Switzerland a half an hour in and took up sketching variations of masks. I still wasn't sure if I was going to keep the name- Auspice. But it wasn't a terrible name, and what it was derived from, Augury, was a theme that was easy to make costumes for. Portents of the future read from the movements of birds.

Everyone loved bird-themed heroes, right? Plus, it sounded plenty heroic.

It needed to be something useful. Nothing too elaborate with lots of loose pieces that could get snagged or grabbed. Maybe something like Summer Holiday's costume, I liked her jumpsuit and harness... it had pockets and could be altered quickly and easily...

My mind wandered, and then my pen wandered, sketching masks, something like a plague-doctor's mask with a long beak and goggles. I liked the idea of eye protection, but I didn't like the aesthetic much- it felt too intimidating. But maybe if the goggles could detach, so I could have the top half of my face bare unless I needed my eyes covered...

The lights darkened suddenly, so sharply I looked up to find-

"Hey, you ready to go?"

I yelped and jumped. I think I must have made some involuntary motion with my hands too, because the notebook in my hands arced towards the ceiling and towards Gretchen's face where it poked out from the light directly above me. She'd not entirely emerged, and had transformed herself again; she had left her eyes transparent, so the light shone through her empty eye sockets and a now toothless and tongueless mouth. The very same mouth that was now smiling and laughing at me.

"Your face!"

I wanted to go back to the time when Gretchen was a periphery in my life. Someone I knew of, but didn't really talk to. I needed it for my health. Too many close calls and one of these heart attacks really was going to kill me.

"Stop... Laughing." I gasped. "...Please?" I added when she showed no indication of doing so.

"Your... Your face!"

"Yes. My face." I sighed.

She laughed some more. It occurred to me to wonder if someone who didn't need to breathe would stop, or if there was no limit to how long she would laugh with the need for oxygen removed. "Gretchen, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Yeah. Yeah." She stopped laughing and drifted out of the ceiling, her eyes and the rest of her face fading back into existence. "You and I are going on a field trip!"

A field trip. I looked at the locked door and then back to Gretchen. "I... Why?"

"So, you know how there's still all this reconstruction? Walls getting put up and shit?"

"...Yeah."

"So, there was this big fire in records, a lot of stuff got destroyed, and a lot of the stuff that's left got moved around. So there's a shit-ton of boxes in a bunch of offices and shit."

"So?" I prompted, "I don't understand how-"

"I was getting to that!" Gretchen said. "I got bored and I was poking through them. They have your files." Her smile acquired a cunning edge, "Bet they have Burnscar and Labyrinth's too."

I blinked at Gretchen, who just sat there grinning back at me.

"Okay..." I said, "Okay, why did you come to me, though?"

"Because I was bored."

I sighed, "Look, I, just... Where is it?"

"Most of it's piled in the director's old office, and a couple other places- all in the admin offices."

I'd never been to the director's office. I was pretty sure that was a floor up, and behind a security checkpoint. The entire floor was largely unknown territory for me, let alone navigating an unknown office. How the hell would we even get there?

"Look, Gretchen, I'm... I'm glad you want to help, but we can't go up there."

"Sure we can." Gretchen grinned even wider. "There's remodeling everywhere, all kinds of gaps in the security system right now. The cables snapped and dropped a bunch of low-sec elevators all the way down the shaft and smashed to pieces- they're still fixing it. Your block's like that. I can fly up fine either way, but there's a ladder built into the wall inside for you. Just climb up."

Her head tilted cutely, "You ready?"

"The door's locked."

"Well, yeah. I just gotta unlock it first," Gretchen said. "Just a sec."

She walked to my door, to the electronics box around the doorknob with the little red light, and pushed her hands inside, up to the wrist. "You're lucky, this is the new model. It's all electronic, so, I can- do this!"

The lights on the door's lock-box flickered, just a moment, and then after several more heartbeats switched from from red to green. Gretchen withdrew her hands, then pulled the latch down and opened my door, just like that. I was distracted, however, because for just a moment I could feel... Someone, someone new there.

I was still staring. "See? Pretty good, huh?"

"Hold on," I murmured. Her hand... It was gone, transparent almost to the wrist. But I could feel it. I could feel her for the first time.

"What are you doing? What are you doing right now?"

Gretchen lifted her invisible hand and, ever so faintly, I could sense her... Moving? Waggling her fingers in my direction. "You can sense this?"

"Yes," I said as her hand became visible again, and faded from my sense in turn. "Usually I can't sense you at all, but I could right then."

"Huh." Gretchen shrugged, "Anyway, we can go-"

"Wait."

I found my voice, shook my head. This was Gretchen. Not Heather, but almost as bad. I raised both hands in a bid for pause, and stepped back, away from the open door. "No. Wait, we can't go... Look, there's a guard station in the hall, at the end. Cameras- there's cameras."

"Nah.

"Gretchen, I can't leave," I said, trying to divert her. "There's cameras and guards, patrols every hour. I can't get out."

"It's supposed to be half hour, and, like, your floor's been on a skeleton staff for weeks."

I wanted to argue with her, but... Well, there were fewer than I'd noticed when I'd started living in low-sec. I couldn't really dispute that.

Gretchen huffed. "Look, you've got half a night shift up here, it used to be they were supposed to come by every half hour or so. But they actually come by every hour, and they're up to every two now, maybe peek in on a few rooms with known and proud rebels, and move on. Medium and high security and special containment are all a lot tighter, trust me, but those levels also got really torn up last month and their repairs are higher priority to begin with. They're still missing cameras and sensors and lights and shit everywhere. Most of the guards are in medium security, double and triple shifts. It's all paint, plaster, and tarps down there still."

I opened my mouth, closed it. Just how much freedom did Gretchen really have? No, focus. "Look, there're still cameras. I- I know there's two on each end of this hall, and a guard post at the other end..."

"Most of the cameras are still fried, they just left them up for show until more parts come in." Gretchen shrugged. "They only have one or two guys checking the ones that do work, but you only really need to worry about them if you trip one of the motion sensors or pressure plates. And I know where all of them are."

She started bouncing up and down, frowning now. "Come on, come on! Your hall monitor isn't at his station, And his circuit takes ten minutes, so we gotta move. Are you coming or not?"

I wavered, and sensing weakness, Gretchen's arm dissolved, and then I could feel it clamp around my wrist. My eyes fastened on my wrist, caught up in the odd discrepancy between sight and sense where Gretchen's ghostly grip latched, and was almost pulled off my feet when she started moving. Out the door, closing it behind us, running down the hallway as I was pulled along after her. Portions of Gretchen faded in and out as we ran, but my awareness of her hand and arm, of the grip on my wrist, that remained constant.

I could feel her, clear as day, and my power could touch her. There was more, subtle hints. I could... I thought I could just barely sense a suggestion of her emotions. Maybe.

It was such a change from what I had felt from her that it left me surprised and intrigued. There was a faint impression of her power, something contrasting, two points of mutual exclusion.

We reached the security station and Gretchen slowed down. "Wait here a sec. Got a working camera up here and I don't know where the thoroughfare guard is."

"What?" Instead of answering, Gretchen floated straight up through the ceiling again.

I blinked at the ceiling tile she vanished through; blinked again, then closed my eyes. Cameras. I pushed my power out, diving into my mental map and the motes of light scattered throughout it. Familiar patterns and emotions. I looked for the cameras. I'd stopped looking for them a long time ago, they were fixtures in Alchemilla, background noise, and it was harder to find them than I'd anticipated.

A few cones of attention hovered at the periphery, but the one that covered the hallway outside my door, it flickered erratically and dimmed even as I watched. What was she doing?

I was annoyed to note that I could faintly detect the guard, walking slowly along a circuit of our rooms. I wished Gretchen had asked me, I could have told her it was clear. Then I was annoyed with myself because, why the hell was I thinking about ways to help her?

For a moment there was that same strange sense of presence, there and gone. Then I could feel her floating down the hall back to me...

I opened my eyes.

"I'm back," Gretchen said brightly, hair billowing in the air in front of me. "Come on, we got about twenty seconds before he reaches the end of the hall and starts moving back this way."

"I..." I sighed, I was just going to get pulled along, wasn't I? Could I even get back into my room at this point? "I thought you couldn't touch anything." I really wanted to know what was up with that.

Gretchen waved one hand at her invisible arm. "I can't touch anything and look awesome like this at the same time. It's an either-or thing."

"Huh."

She grabbed my hand again. "Move it or lose it." Gretchen yanked me along behind her. I was better prepared this time, I didn't even stumble.

Had I read heard about powers like that before? One came to mind, Battery- she was a hero in Brockton. It was a toggle on and off sort of thing too- she had to stand still to charge her powers. Vanguard from San Antonio was a better example, maybe. He could fly at supersonic speeds and create force fields, or anchor himself in place to fire powerful energy blasts, while protected by a Brute power.

"You can shapeshift, but only touch things when you're invisible, right?"

"Yeah, I'm also blind and deaf when my head's invisible, so it's annoying. I'd be invisible all the time if I could. Easier to spook people that way."

She missed the glare I shot at the back of her head.

Gretchen pulled me along, past the security station. The halls with our rooms were arranged in four squares with a four-way intersection across the center and a hall that ran a circuit around the whole thing. The security station sat in the center of the intersection, my room was in one of the branches and the elevators at the far wall in the opposite branch. The stairs required a right-hand turn, and left led back towards the common rooms, the cafeteria and computer rooms through a door that was remotely locked past curfew. Gretchen went straight across, skirting the guard station. There was no second guard...

"Come on, come on!"

The elevators had been out of commission since Elle's world damaged them, and the door was crossed with an out of order sign. It wasn't really an imposition, since I rarely left this floor, as did most of the patients in my ward. It wasn't really something I thought about much.

"One sec..." Gretchen said, leaning forward so her whole upper body stuck through the door. I was left standing awkwardly watching her lower half. Her hips and legs took a step to the side, twisting in place and kind of leaning at an angle- a fascinating sight I tried to place to some kind of action on the other side. Why didn't she just float through? There was only a moment of that other-bodiedness, then a thud as the doors parted and opened, swinging right through the rest of her.

"Over here."

Gretchen floated off into the center of the shaft- gray concrete and steel girders exposed. It was gritty and poorly lit; I couldn't see much outside the circle of light cast by the open door. Very different from the white, sterile, and polished face of Alchemilla.

"The ladder is right here, grab on!"

I hesitated. If I went any further it would mean more than just the possibility of getting in trouble, if I was discovered I would be in real trouble. What's more, this was the edge of unknown territory. The edge of the map, with everything beyond painted in faint impressions I couldn't read, somewhere my power wouldn't be nearly as strong.

I touched the presence of the guard, still on the other side of the four-square block, moving unhurriedly. He'd have line of sight down the middle hallway soon, I had a few seconds. After that, I'd be in trouble, or committed.

It sounded like a lot of risk for curiosity, maybe for the thrill of defying the doctors. But that was more Heather's thing, I liked my doctors and knew I was making headway. I didn't want to take that risk.

But if they had Mimi's full file... Elle's...

That... That was something I could use. If I was being honest, it was something I needed. I'd made requests for their files, but there were heavy restrictions on that kind of information. As Feral had promised, all of my requests for file access- for Charnel, for powers like mine -were all met with miles of red tape.

My request got bounced from doctor to doctor, and I was starting to realize that without a director at Alchemilla I might not make any actual progress on that front for months. Mimi might be able to give consent, but I doubted Elle could. Not in a fashion that would convince a doctor to let me look at anything. Nobody had enough authority to just authorize what I needed; and handing out a parahuman's identity, background, and details on their power was a potentially career-ending action. Doctor Yamada and Doctor Selmy were behind me, and Mimi's new therapist was too, but they just weren't enough.

"Come on, Taylor!" Gretchen hissed.

I gathered my nerves, swallowed down the lump in my throat, and reached out for the ladder.

Time for a leap of faith. Literal, figurative, whatever. I took the leap, I just hoped I wouldn't regret it.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"You are getting in trouble for this."

"We. You came too, so we are getting in trouble," Gretchen corrected me. "But, nah, we won't. We only get in trouble if we're caught."

The elevator service ladder was just a series of metal loops attached directly to the concrete, and I quickly realized I should have put on my sneakers and not just the socks I'd worn to bed. It was cold, and there was a draft blowing in my face when I looked up.

Gretchen handled closing the elevator doors behind us. I was now pulling myself up the shaft hand-over hand, intent on the distant emergency lights while Gretchen floated up the empty space behind me.

"Is Heather going to show up at some point?"

"Nah, she broke something again."

"Again? What was it this time?"

"She just twisted her ankle. I guess it's not really broken, but she's under observation, you know, because of the bones-break-easily thing." Gretchen's hair transformed into a fiery mass of light, illuminating the shaft as she played with the color. "Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, and I'd sneak her out too. But now we got all these new Protectorate capes, since the old director stepped down. Gotta lay low until we see who's gonna be the new director, and how the chips fall with that. Could be a huge douche or something."

I decided not to comment on that. Even though that opened up so many questions... given who I was talking to, I was beginning to think the answers wouldn't matter.

"Are there cameras in the elevator shafts?" I asked, eyeing her new and glowing look. If I'd designed security here, there would absolutely be cameras in the elevator shafts.

"Not a problem, they're out like the rest of it," Gretchen said. "So are the motion sensors. There's pressure plates in the elevators themselves... but we're not taking them."

Oh. Well, at least there were some, even if they were down right now..."Can you answer some questions for me?"

"Sure!" Gretchen's fiery hair vanished, plunging the shaft into darkness. I had to grope blindly for my handholds a moment before I remembered to push my power out, into my surroundings. After a moment I didn't need sight to find the rungs.

"All right, first: why's there so much distance between floors?" That had me a little puzzled, actually. I knew Alchemilla was built really sturdy, but I was pretty sure we'd traveled far enough for another floor to be hidden in there somewhere. I frowned, focusing on what I felt from the concrete under my hand. "I'm sensing a lot of metal plates in the walls. What's that for?"

"Well... it's supposed to be if a patient gets out of control, they're contained. Each floor, and most of the patient residences are all reinforced, so they can be remotely isolated in an emergency, and each wing and floor is isolated from the others."

"Mimi said something about that," I muttered. "Something about armored gates..."

"Yeah, everything is like that. Most entrances can be sealed off, but electricity and water all get piped in through these big junctions. It's why they have the utility tunnels." Gretchen flitted through the wall and poked her head through the ladder, grinning in my face, "If you ever want to escape, just follow the pipes; the armor plates can't cover them."

I gave her the side-eye. If I ever want to escape? "Uh-huh."

The elevator door was up ahead, an intricate intersection of levers from this side. I expected Gretchen to float up to it and pull it aside, but she shook her head.

"There actually is a camera on the other side of that one." Gretchen admitted, "We're going to need to climb past it and get to third-level maintenance."

I sighed and kept climbing, reconsidering the wisdom of following Gretchen with each rung. My arms were starting to burn, I was more used to exercising them than I had been last month, but it wasn't a short climb. I wondered if my power could help there too... It had helped with climbing the cliff-face in Labyrinth's world...

"Why are you doing this anyway?" I asked.

"Same reason Heather wanted to," Gretchen said, "I was bored. I thought it'd be interesting. Well, I also kind of wanted to help you out, and- oh! Hey right here." She pointed at a door, hovering up to float beside it.

This one reminded me of the one Summer Holiday had walked me through weeks ago. Heavy, solid metal.

"There isn't a keypad on this one, it's not supposed to be accessible from this side so it doesn't have a card or key lock," she said. "I hope they never plug the hole."

She floated up through the door, vanishing. A moment later it swung open, and another blast of cold air hit me in the face. What was wrong with the air conditioning up here? This was a hospital, not a meat locker, and I was shivering.

"Come on, we're on a time limit."

I climbed until I hung beside the door, then eased one foot over the threshold. I held on with one hand as I felt for a handhold. My mouth was dry by the time I eased myself around the frame. Afterwards, I leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

The room beyond the door was bare concrete and pipes, much like I remembered the utility hallway with Summer Holiday. There were metal cabinets set against the wall, hardhats and safety glasses hung up on the wall. Boxes were stacked in a pile under a ladder. Plaster dust clung to the corners, and I could smell new paint.

I hazarded a peek over the edge, the drop fell away for at least a dozen stories, before it cut off in some kind of hatch at the bottom. Maybe the top of the disabled elevator? That was a long, long fall. How large was Alchemilla any way? I'd never asked and I'd never really thought about it.

There was the visitor's center and the public areas of the hospital. For the most part, the floor below that was in-processing. Then there was low security, and below that was medium security, followed by the more specialized containment- though, I was under the impression the medium, high, and specialized security sections had some overlap.

If each of those had a level in between, that could be as many as eight floors, or more.

"You over the nerves?"

Gretchen hovered above me, now with green hair and eyes. I frowned.

"Hey, don't be like that, everybody gets some heebie-jeebies around heights."

"I was wondering how big Alchemilla is," I said, and gave her the annoyed look to end all annoyed looks.

"Really?" Gretchen peered at me curiously, "Huh. All right, I'm pretty sure I can get you a map or something." An invisible hand tugged on my shoulder. "Come on."

We weren't in a hallway, more like a small room without a door, adjacent to utility access in a T-intersection with a flight of descending stairs.

A placard beside the stairs read 'Loading docks/In-Process 3/Utility access 7-9'. All this was unexplored territory for me, but I could pull something off it. I closed my eyes, diving into my mental map and the motes of light scattered throughout it. I could see where it was in relation to the rest of what I had seen, and there were some angles, some spaces being filled in.

I could feel presences close by too, see them in the nebulous blank in my map, so faint compared to more familiar territory. I thought one of them might be someone I talked to, but the rest I probably hadn't had much to do with. Hadn't interacted much; newer, dimmer lights and patterns.

I followed Gretchen, and the smell of paint, until we arrived at a hole in the wall covered with a tarp that flapped lightly in the draft. Gretchen floated right through, and after only a moment of hesitation I pulled the tarp out of the way and followed her.

On the other side the floor was bare plywood, it looked like the remodeling was currently focused on repainting. A door sat leaned against the wall. Boxes of hardwood flooring with a tarp over top. Buckets of paint. A ladder stood under a partially assembled light fixture. Tools were laid against the walls. A roll of carpet wrapped in plastic and dusted with plaster. There was a fine dusting of plaster and sawdust in every corner. My nose itched and I wanted to sneeze.

The hall was pretty crowded, and flanked on each side with doors. It reminded me of the administrative sections of my own ward.

"Oh shit." Gretchen hissed

"What?" I asked. She floated in the middle of the hall, staring absently into space.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit!" she said vehemently. "Damnit."

Her face momentarily lost cohesion, the shape of her nose and jaw shifted, the length of her hair. One moment it was curly, the next straight.

"I have to go, they're turning me over and one of the docs wants to talk to me." Gretchen grimaced, and her face settled, dark mocha skin and brown eyes, curly hair.

"How long will it take?"

"Dunno."

My eyes darted up and down the hall, the unfamiliar hall. "You'll be back, right?"

"Yeah." Gretchen floated down to the floor and pointed. "Look, just keep walking that way, You're looking for Doctor Yate's room, its all full of boxes, there's even a couple outside on the floor. You can't miss it."

"What about cameras?" A little knot of panic twisted in my throat. How was I supposed to find my way up here?

"There aren't any except by the elevators." Gretchen said. "Look, there's no guards outside the checkpoints up here. There's too few. Just keep moving."

"Gretchen!"

"Don't sweat it, you got this."

She flickered, took a step and fell through the floor like she was walking down stairs.

"Gretchen!" I hissed, but she was gone. Damn it. I stared at the square of floor Gretchen vanished through like it might unexpectedly produce her if I glared hard enough. It failed to do so.

Fuck.

The hall stretched down and away into the dark, emergency lights provided intermittent illumination that was broken by the silhouettes of ladders and piles of buckets and boxes. Most of the floor was bare wood and concrete dusted with sawdust, new flooring was being laid down, but a tangle of wires and electrical paraphernalia occupied a space between paint cans. I think it might have been a fuse box.

"This is my fault for letting her talk me into this." I admitted. I immediately regretted talking, it felt like intruding. The silence was oppressive, and I tentatively edged past a pile of two-by-fours covered in a painter's tarp, afraid to break the quiet. Could I climb back down the elevator shaft? I wasn't sure...

Actually, now that I thought of it, how was I going to get back in general? elevator or no, I wouldn't be able to open the doors without her. Great.

I sighed heavily. Nowhere to go but foreward now. I might as well see what I could do before I was caught.

At least I was starting to build a picture of the floor, filling in the gaps beyond what I could see. Interestingly, there was a connection forming between my hearing and the mental map as it formed. When I stepped, it was like a ripple passed over my surroundings. My power was using my sense of hearing to expand its reach.

It surprised me, the rate that my power filled in my mental map took a quarter of the time it had when I had arrived. Was that because I was more in tune with my power, more accustomed to using it, or was it because I had been using my power on my senses for so long? Was it pulling off more data, or just working faster? Or both? Every time I thought I'd pinned down the limits of my power it found a way to surprise me.

I also discovered Gretchen sucked at directions because about twenty feet further the hallway opened up into a larger lobby. It reminded me of the reception room down in medium security, complete with the large reception desk. It lacked the computer center, however, and unlike the medium security lobby, this room was flanked by a pair of stairs to a second story that overlooked the main lobby.

It seemed to have escaped the majority of the remodeling work, but for a neat pile of boxes under yet another tarp moving gently in the cold draft; a few bundles of wires, and a ladder arranged against the wall.

Some furniture had been moved out into the lobby as well, desks, a couple chairs clustered beside reception. Most of the lobby lights were off, emergency lights casting jagged shadows, illuminating the reception desk and both sets of stairs.

The cone of a security camera stood out in my mind's eye, like a neon spotlight covering the elevator bank across the wall furthest from me, and a door marked 'stairs' below a glowing Exit sign. I glanced back at the ladder, under a couple ceiling tiles left ajar. Installing new cameras, perhaps?

But for right now it was only the one. Gretchen was right about that at least, so far.

I moved out into the lobby hesitantly and waited for my awareness to expand out into it. I didn't like it, standing out there felt much too open, too exposed when I wasn't supposed to be there. It made me...antsy.

I started moving again; skirting the room, walking along the wall, I was pretty sure that I just needed to keep moving forward, to the hall across from the one I had entered from. It was then that I froze, because the absolute worst thing happened- a cone of light crossed the lobby from the upper level, casting a circle of light and freezing me in place. A flashlight.

The guard above me moved. He wasn't someone I'd met before, his impression was faint, almost nonexistent. The carpeting upstairs probably masked his footsteps. I was lucky he'd given his presence away with the flashlight. Luckier still that I hadn't tried walking straight across the lobby, where the light was now. He couldn't see me were I was, almost directly under him.

That was a close call.

I leaned back against the wall, and watched nervously as he made his round. He crossed the second story, circling the lobby. there were other doors on the opposite side. Hopefully he'd leave through one of them and patrol through the other floor. If- I swore as he flashed the light on the far side of the overhang, and then immeadiately turned and started to walk down the stairs. Shit!

My heart pounded in my ears and my palms started to sweat. If he swept the flashlight across the room, I'd be spotted immediately. I looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide, growing frantic.

The desks and chairs beside reception blocked his line of sight, even though they were dangerously close to the circle cast by the emergency lights. I darted forward and ducked behind one of the desks.

The guard's steps slowed and stopped.

Shit, did he hear me?

I listened more intensely than I ever had before in my life, I didn't dare try to peek around the desk.

A faint click, "Control, this is Bralow. Do we have anyone working late tonight?"

Faint static, too faint for normal hearing, a short pause, "Negative, Bralow, no warm bodies on the register. Do you have someone?"

"Thought I heard something, checking it out." Another click and the footsteps resumed.

I concentrated on those footsteps, trying to guess which side he was moving on. The circle of light passed over the desks, and I tracked its motion on the walls and I could feel his attention move, slightly out of sync with his flashlight. He moved across the front of the room, the side facing the elevators. With agonizing slowness, I shimmied around the desk, keeping it between me and the source of that light.

Around the desk, then reception. The reception desk was larger and more substantial. It blocked line of sight better than the transplanted office desk or the chairs. I wasn't sure if this was a facet of my power I'd never discovered, or if the intensity of my focus opened up my power as I moved, but I noticed things I had overlooked. The sound of every surface as I moved along the floor, the rustle of cloth on my skin, my breathing. How they interacted with the room around me, how far they carried before they were muffled by the moving air. My socks made little noise as I edged around his line of sight.

The ceiling tiles and bundles of hanging wire were overhead now, and the pile of boxes under the tarp- I'd need to go around it. I could see Bralow's helmet moving over the top, if he turned his head even a few inches to the left he'd see me. He stopped, training his flashlight down the hall, in the distance I could see the tarp covering the hole in the wall, flapping in the glare.

"Control, this is Bralow."

"Go ahead."

"I got nothing." The circle of his flashlight moved over the wall, and settled pointing the way I'd come. "Probably the tarps, fans are moving them all over the place. I wish they'd fix the damn ducts already."

I kept moving, inch by inch. Thinking furiously. The flashlight remained pointed steadily away from me, but it was a matter of seconds before he turned and spotted me.

My hand brushed the tarp covering the boxes under the ladder, and I had an idea. There was some slack, extra length. I scooted around the pile and pulled the tarp over my head, lying flat on the floor.

The sound of Bralow's footsteps echoed, the light flashed over the tarp and my heart almost stopped, and then he was slowly moving closer. Closer. Closer. He passed me, so near I could have reached out and touched him. I could hear the clink of a keychain on his belt. The slightly uneven plod in his steps.

I strained my ears to track him, and watched his shoes. And before my eyes an afterimage glimmered faintly, echoes of steps taken laid out on the floor. The sound of his steps, and the motion of his feet became a shimmering shape I could see through the tarp. His shape. I watched as it turned, training the flashlight over the boxes and the tarp I hid behind.

The moment stretched on, painfully and frustratingly slow, until Bralow turned away and I could breath again.

I waited, let him move away. The silhouette, and the phantoms of his steps remained while I concentrated. It wasn't a new power, not quite, I think. It was... difficult to articulate. It was like I'd put a puzzle together, and now I knew where all the pieces fit. Some kind of nuance.

Bralow kept moving, and I watched until the shape of his silhouette blurred and dissolved. Huh.

Ever so slowly, I poked my head out from under the tarp.

Bralow was still visible to my real eyes, he moved steadily down the hall Gretchen had pointed out. I watched him until he turned a corner, before I took a deep breath, and quietly padded after him.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I found what were probably the ducts Bralow had been talking about, several pallets of them, and large industrial garbage bags filled with what looked like the remains of the previous set. Apparently the reason I'd been freezeing since I'd arrived on this floor was because the air conditioning system was dissassembled.

At the moment, the air blasted from a square hole in the wall surrounded by ladders and carpentry equipment. The draft left me shivering.

Bralow was not moving particularly quickly. He meandered past doors and around displaced office furniture, swinging his flashlight this way and that. I was mindful of the light and gave him space. The hall branched near a pile of pallets and Bralow turned to the side. I could breath a little easier.

After he made the turn I caught up and waited around the corner. I didn't need line of sight to follow him any more, and I wanted a chance to look at the remodeling.

A couple offices were missing doors, a lot of flooring was being replaced, and some of the walls were new, I think; but no furnishings- like a new building. I wondered what had caused it all.

I didn't think it was fire damage, like what Mimi had done. For one- there was no smell of smoke. But then there was the ducts... I tried to piece it together, imagining the floorplan I was building, and what would do that kind of damage.

As I pondered this I became aware of something else. Flickers of other-presence, faint on the edge of my awareness. After a moment of thought I guessed it was... in the walls? Did Alchemilla have rats? I didn't think so.

I was pretty sure I would have sensed them in the basements, at least.

The sensation blinked in and out, until I realized it was coming closer. It was moving fairly quickly too... When it blinked between two different rooms behind me, it hit me and I realized what it was. I stopped and waited for her to catch up, keeping mental tabs on Bralow as he continued on his rounds.

A few seconds later I was rewarded when Gretchen cautiously poked her head out from the ceiling, looking up and down the hall almost on top of me. I could sense her in her visible state, if very faintly.

"Hey." Gretchen turned and grinned down at me, then frowned when I held a finger to my lips.

"There's a guard up here, that way. Uh, about fifty feet, I think," I whispered.

"Okay. Cool." Gretchen slipped from the ceiling to bob two feet above the ground. "This way."

We passed the junction Bralow had taken, and continued on straight ahead. The remodeling and reconstruction grew sparse, and then I was sure we'd found what we were looking for. What had to be Gretchen's boxes were piled on the floor beside a door, the placard beside the door read: 'G. Yates'.

"Here we are," Gretchen said. She opened the door and floated in.

I stopped in the hall, staring. The room was almost entirely filled with cardboard boxes, piles stacked level with my shoulders. There were computer components in the corners, but nearly all of it was boxes set out in neat piles. There was a desk in there, somewhere, covered in boxes.

A click, and light from a small desk lamp. An easy chair was pressed into one corner. Most of the personal touches I'd associate with one of my own therapist's offices were absent. Just... Boxes and boxes. There was too much. I'd never be able to get through it all.

"This isn't even most of it, that up in the Director's Office. I have lots of free time, so I looked through some of it. The docs get angry if they catch me at it, but they can't stop me really. I'll help you look for as long as I can."

She flitted through the piles and I slowly followed.


	32. Eyas 4-8

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Let's find our girls, I'm on a time limit." Gretchen said. "Here, this pile- everything's organized by year, then security level, then civilian name. And your case number, I guess... Do you know Burnscar and Labyrinth's civilian names? Their full civilian names?"

"I, uh... No. I just know Burnscar's name is Mimi. Labyrinth's name is Elle."

"... Do you know when they got here?"

I knew Mimi had been here four years. I didn't actually know anything about Elle, that was the whole point... Wait, no. Elle had arrived around the same time Mimi had, Mimi had mentioned they both went through early testing together.

"I think both of them arrived about four years ago, but I don't know exactly when," I hedged. "Is that enough?"

"I'll make a troublemaker out of you yet." Gretchen made a considering noise and drifted above the boxes. "There's a manifest on one of the lids here somewhere, but it's all in case numbers. Looks like we have to do this the hard way."

I was silent for a moment, watching as she floated overhead. "What did you mean, that we're on a time limit?"

"I gotta get back down to my room." Gretchen said. "I'm a troublemaker, so they pretend I cooperate as long as I'm there when they turn my body and give me meds and everything." She made a face at that.

That made me nervous. "That sounds like you're going to leave. You're coming back, right?"

"...Probably not."

"Then... Then how am I supposed to get back to my room?"

"It's a straight shot back," Gretchen said, giving me an odd look. "You've got _superpowers_ , you can do it."

"...Why does everyone use their powers everywhere? We aren't supposed to," I complained. Yes, I knew it sounded petulant, but... It was the rules.

Gretchen was very unimpressed. "Newsflash, Taylor: the rules are mostly for people with destructive powers. Burnscar and Wendigo and shit. People like us got it easy, we're supposed to use our powers because we're useful."

"But..."

Her expression softened. "It's just how things are. Thinkers and Tinkers get passes. They're rare and useful, and usually not as dangerous as someone who can blast people with fire."

Mimi...

Gretchen shrugged and... I thought I could almost sense emotion from her. "Look, it's fine. Just go back the way we came. Through the elevator shaft and back down. It's easier to close the elevator doors than open them, believe me."

"...Okay." I said finally.

"Right."

We started on the boxes, and the monumental task of untangling what was inside. I focused on narrowing them down. Focused on finding a system to sort the ones I needed to look at out from the ones I didn't.

Each box was labeled, but not all of them were labeled in what I'd call a useful manner. I quickly realized that a few boxes were devoted to single parahumans, or even multiple boxes- after I opened one labeled 'Fironic, case files 1998-2006 et al'.

Some weren't patient files at all, I pulled open a box labeled 'Misc c stubs and rcpts 2006' to find files of purchasing receipts and payroll records and set it aside, everything with the word 'Financial' was right out. What year would that have been for Mimi? ...Right. I kept an eye out for any boxes labeled 2006 and 2007.

Progress was slow.

My mind wandered as I leafed through a stack of binders. I still wasn't sure what Gretchen got out of this. She wasn't doing it out of some aimless rebellion like Heather might have; I'd never had the impression that she was anything but sincere. Was there something I was missing?

I didn't like having to guess.

"Why is everything so jumbled?"

Gretchen poked her head through the side of a box. "Well, I'm pretty sure some of these are from different rooms and maybe even different departments."

"... You don't actually know if they have Mimi and Elle's files, do you?" I sighed. "This was all to get me to come along."

"Nah, I really do want to help. Already went through a lot of these." She waved a hand towards a pile by the wall.

I eyed the pile. That was a lot of boxes. Maybe a dozen. There was so much; those had to have taken hours. I wondered how bored she got, and if it was like me, and staring at the ceiling into the small hours of the night.

"Why were you going through all that?" I asked.

"Lots of people want to know stuff," Gretchen replied, "I just find it out and tell them."

"Like who?" My imagination began to fill in the blanks. "It's not someone outside the hospital is it?"

"Ha! No," Gretchen said, floating over my way, "That'd be a really bad idea. I find out stuff for people here, patients, sometimes doctors if they ask nicely. I do them a favor, they do me a favor. Sometimes they get me books and music and stuff. It's hard to do favors for a girl who's actually a vegetable. I can't taste or smell like this either, so snack bribery is out too. I was big into fashion a year ago, got a lot of magazines- because my powers mean I can try everything on, everything that I've seen, you know? And I have an amazing comic book collection..."

I hmmed, somewhat mollified. "What do people ask you to find anyway?"

"Sometimes it's stuff from outside. News. But usually stuff about themselves," Gretchen said.

Puzzle pieces fell into place. Mimi's disheartened and despairing resignation, Nick and his listlessness. Blake's hints and knowing smile. That was why he knew so much about me.

You never get out of Orange. "You give them information on their own files," I said. "You tell them what the doctors are saying about them."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

That was why. That was why Mimi was so depressed. She thought that way because she knew.

... No. No, I couldn't accept that.

While I was stilled in horror Gretchen floated over. "Here, I got your file over here. You'll want to keep the door closed, but the night watchmen don't poke around in the offices unless they hear something. You ought to be fine. Just don't turn any more lights on." She waved a hand with a manila folder in it, offered it to me, "Here. Your file. Take it. I gotta scram."

I shook myself from my musing. "Already?"

"Yeah. The... Thing got moved up." Gretchen made a face that I had trouble interpreting. Disgust, maybe?

"Listen, it's one o'clock right now. Graveyard shift gets off at three, and the morning shift is on until eight. If you want to sneak back down, that's when it's best to try." Gretchen said, "Anything you need before I go?"

I took a deep breath, "Just a straight shot back?"

"That's right."

"... No, I think that's it."

"I'll swing by your room around seven, if the doctors are done with their thing, and see if you made it back. If I can't find you I'll go looking, all right?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Good luck."

Gretchen bobbed in place, then with a wave of her hand, she took a swan dive through the floor and the hazy, ever so faint, impression of her presence dropped away and quickly vanished. The room was larger and emptier in her absence.

I felt cheated, a little. She'd dragged me out here, if I was found I'd probably be in enormous trouble. But... I looked at the boxes.

They were still there, waiting for me to start looking again, but my heart wasn't in it. Gretchen's words weighed on me, turning over and over in my head. It was true most patients were not encouraged to use powers outside of very controlled circumstances.

A nagging suspicion in the back of my mind prodded; I had been using my powers freely, hadn't I? I'd been encouraged to use my powers, it was part of my therapy. And it had helped me, too. That wasn't possible for someone like Mimi, probably not possible for someone like Elle either; their powers were destructive and disruptive.

For people who couldn't use their powers freely, it meant that using powers couldn't be therapeutic. It wasn't something they could acclimate to. It was something that couldn't be used as a tool to help them grow. It couldn't be used to help them heal.

Not unless they found other ways and places to use them. And I didn't think Mimi had that. Not if the one disastrous testing session we'd shared was any indicator. I didn't like the idea implied, the division between the staff and the patients... We should not be set against our doctors, against the staff. That would hurt us, it would make therapy impossible.

Was Gretchen right?

I wanted to say she was wrong. That Alchemilla was not stacked that heavily against Mimi and Elle. But... My current doctors were not the only therapists here... I loved Yamada and Selmy; but I'd had a few, early on, that rubbed me sharply and painfully the wrong way...

Papers and folders shifted listlessly in my hands as I continued to sort the folders into piles of looked-at and not-looked-at while my thoughts spiraled. I came back to myself with a blink, looking at the folder in my hands I'd just picked up. The name at the top read Lasseter, Gail. After a moment of hesitation, I opened a it, hoping for a distraction.

A photograph was pinned to the first page, a girl- maybe eighteen? -with a hesitant smile and brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Like me. I stared at the photograph, there was a tightness in my chest, a moment of intense kinship with that person I had never met.

I glanced to the page behind her, her name.

Shrike. A Protectorate hero I didn't recognize. The date at the top of the first page was two years ago. She was a Mover, an Alexandria package. Increased strength and aerokinesis in relation to her own body, with a high degree of control that allowed her to fly. She also had an exotic third power, the ability to communicate with birds.

What did that mean? Did it mean she could control them? A mental connection or awareness? Did she have a thinker power that allowed her to understand their calls like speech?

The summary page wasn't specific.

I looked over the rest of the summary. Her stay. Turned pages. Found a set of graphs and diagrams that I couldn't make heads or tails of. A small section listed several other case numbers and a reference page. Patient contact? Names and case numbers beside them I didn't recognize. Gamma Jack, Meta Man...

Wait...

Wait. If our case files contained reference numbers for other patients... What if my file had Mimi and Elle's names and case numbers? I hadn't considered that.

I mean, I'd started working with them after the fire, after Mimi trashed Records. But maybe... My file was still sitting there, where Gretchen had dropped it. It could be somewhere I could start, something more concrete.

Curiosity and eagerness warred with a morbid dread. Gretchen's words echoed in my head, cultivating every worst-case scenario, each worse than the one before.

But I had to try. Even Mimi didn't really believe in herself, in her succeeding; and I didn't know if anyone else really knew how active and frustrated Elle was behind her blank expression. I needed to help my friends. I didn't know if someone else would be able to, not the way I could.

I reached out and picked it up.

It was... My file was smaller than I'd thought it'd be. Which was silly, really, I hadn't been here six months yet. The summary page with my photograph- I looked terrible. It was right after the hospital, and the girl staring back at me was blank-faced with a thousand yard stare and shadows under her eyes. Hair, brown. Eyes, brown. Height... Weight... Codename, Auspice.

My power.

Class: Thinker/Striker. Clairvoyance tied to proximity, familiarity, physical contact; as the parahuman in question grows more familiar with the subject of her power's focus, her power grows in acuity. This nuance is not dissimilar to a lingering or infused effect. If the effect accumulates sufficiently prescience develops, tying Auspice's awareness to the subject of her power even outside her effective passive range. The limits, duration, or scale of this effect are not currently known- though physical contact has been noted to produce a sharply more defined awareness much more quickly.

Similar powers... Clarity and Watch... Apex. Names I already knew.

I sighed and turned a page.

"Auspice has displayed a willingness, even eagerness to work with others and assist in their growth and healing. In addition to altruistic aspirations and a profound sense of duty and moral obligation, she has expressed the desire to join the Wards and Protectorate."

The next lines stopped me, and I had to re-read it again.

"Recommend expediting her case, pending approval of regional PRT office, ENE."

An obscure thrill shivered down my spine. I'd grown up with stories of classical heroes told by Mom. I'd always dreamed of becoming a superhero. I was going to be a hero! The thrill faded, the excitement was a possibility, but it was a distant aspiration. Helping Mimi and Elle was here and now. "Focus, Taylor." I reminded myself.

I turned a page, looking for the references, patient contact.

There.

My eyes jumped down the line. More names than I would have ever expected. More than a dozen. And there, Burnscar, case number... And there, Labyrinth too.

I memorized their case numbers. I knew where to start looking now, I'd find them.

My search took on a fresh intensity. It wasn't for just some file anymore. Numbers blurred past as I thumbed through folders as quickly as I dared. I was looking for case numbers 078-02-07 and 080-02-07... Gretchen had made plenty of progress on the mountain of boxes, but with a mission in mind and specific objective, I surprised myself with the pace I set. Despite this, as the pile of unchecked boxes shrunk my apprehension grew, until I was left staring down at a box full of receipts and requisitions, empty-handed.

I felt cheated. All that, and their files weren't here... I felt hollow, and sank back against the wall, sliding to the floor to just sit and think. What now? This felt like a waste, I felt defeated.

I sat there, working over my options. Gretchen had mentioned a manifest, right? Where was that? Three minutes of hunting found a manila document envelope taped to a lid, I pulled it out and read it by the light of that little desk lamp, leafing through the list. Box numbers, departments. I could see why Gretchen hadn't simply read the manifest, it didn't actually say what was in the boxes. Everything was a mess of numbers and reference codes that meant nothing to me.

But it did mean I could see what boxes were there, and which were missing. The listed number at the end of the inventory was sixty-eight. I counted the ones in the room, and found... Twenty-five. Just twenty-five? The number had seemed so much larger when I'd arrived.

So... Where were the rest of them? There were only three or four outside the door.

Gretchen had said some were in the director's old office... Where was that? Damnit, I should have asked her! I glanced at my mental model of the floorplan.

Bralow had stopped moving some time before. His current location was a junction, a crossroads of four halls, so I guessed it was a security station.

I traced the faint outline of the floor in my mind. Even without my direct attention, my awareness of him, of his movements on his rounds had filled in gaps with faint understanding. If I had been paying him more attention, would I have more than the faint outline I had now? I wondered. But that didn't help me find the director's office now.

...There would be a map at the security station. Yeah, I'd bet that. Or a register of rooms, or something. I could start there, if he left.

But... If I did that. If I left and went further instead of turning back like Gretchen had advised me... If I pressed on beyond the spaces I knew were unoccupied and safe... I wasn't very strong up here. I was barely attuned to Bralow. I could be surprised and discovered much more easily than I might be on floors I was more familiar.

The yawning, empty, sleepless hours in my room stretched before me. I hadn't even found what I'd come for. It felt... Like cowardice. Maybe my requests would bear fruit, I'd get access to Mimi's full files, to Elle's... But with everything trapped behind some kind of non-disclosure clause I doubted it. I might get Mimi and Elle's files eventually, or files on cases like theirs, but even if I did, I probably wouldn't get everything I actually needed. And how long would that take? What else would get in the way?

I had a choice.

I thought about Feral, and what it had to take to come back to Alchemilla. About Mimi's despair, and Elle's frustration. Doing good wasn't important because it was easy, it was important because it wasn't but it needed to happen anyway. And they were the good right in front of me now. If I turned back now, it would be like... like I'd missed the point. And even if this was breaking the rules, I wanted to try.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

A quick double-check of boxes outside the door, just in case, but they were all budget reports and requisitions. So many receipts. Bralow was back the way I'd come, and one hallway over. The outline of the floor that I had was faint, and I could only sense the general shape. But... the layout reminded me of the floor plan in medium security, but doubled side by side, and vertically. Two blocks of offices and two more, a double figure eight and the lobby at one side. Bralow, and I could only assume the security station, in the middle.

The remodeling and repairs were mostly centered on and slightly off center of the lobby and the elevator bank, with tarps and plastic cordoning off the work; cold air blasting from busted ducts, the missing flooring and carpets, doors leaned against walls, ladders, buckets, and everywhere the smell of fresh paint. The rest was comprised of offices with neat room numbers and name plaques in perfect order, silent and empty, the contrast between the two eerie.

I puzzled on the damages while my familiarity sharpened. This floor was not used for counseling, and it was my understanding that patients rarely came up here- the damage was a lot more extensive than I'd anticipated. Elle's changes always reverted, who had done this?

I started moving, swinging wide around the security station and my dim awareness of Bralow and his attention. I think he was... reading one of the screens for the cameras? Or maybe watching TV...

Maybe talking on the phone, that sounded more like what I felt. He didn't move much, and I wasn't tuned to him enough to pick up emotions reliably.

With careful slowness, I eased one eye around the corner and spotted him at the big security desk. Heavyset, broad shouldered, and currently looking away from me. There were television screens suspended from the ceiling above him, some of which showed idle static, but at least three were active, though too far away to decipher. The second floor opened into an overlook above him, and I could see stairs from where I sat.

I considered making some kind of racket to draw him out, then double back and search the desk. But the only reason that he'd dismissed the sound of me moving around in the lobby was because there was enough background noise it hadn't been clear there was an intruder. I wasn't sure I could reproduce that again, and doing so too many times risked him becoming suspicious.

Wandering blindly through the offices was ill-advised. I knew of one camera, but the other two were mysteries. He had to make regular rounds, right? I settled in to wait.

I had no way of telling time- could my power do that? Something to try later... I waited until Bralow's next round began, and I could feel him start to move.

A camera covering the security desk would have put an end to this venture, I didn't have a way to deal with something like that, but more electronics dangling from the ceiling and no camera in evidence emboldened me. I could do this.

The security desk was a donut with two office chairs inside it, drawers, clipboards, a bank of... what looked a little like hand-radios in a bank of chargers, and several binders. The screens overhead were still mostly snow, I glanced at the three that showed something. One was the lobby, where Bralow currently was. The other two were... An empty hallway, and a hallway with a pallet filling most of the screen.

There was a floor map on the wall, one of those fire plan maps, with all the walls, stairs, and fire extinguishers on it. A plan for evacuating the floor was spelled out directly under it, the lobby and elevators were labeled, but the actual offices were all labeled with numbers and letters.

Well, it was progress. I circled around behind the desk and glanced at the drawers, but the binders looked more promising. I'd seen nurses using registers like them. The red binder was labeled 'emergency procedures' on the spine, and the yellow binder was labeled 'PRT action codes'... Curiosity tickled, I really wanted to look at that one, but I didn't have any time. The blue binder was what I was actually looking for. 'Floor register'.

The register had a table of contents, hmm.

A moment and I mentally glanced in Bralow's direction, moving in a steady circuit, placed a metaphorical finger on the pulse of his distant presence, and ran my less metaphorical finger down the listing. Everything was listed by hall, then by room number...

By the time Bralow returned to his desk, I had already climbed the stairs and slipped away, the binders back in their places and him none the wiser.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The director's office was down hallway C, room 413. It still had the Director's placard.

 _J. Foster. Director._

I paused by the door, pushing my power out into the room. Bralow startling me was not the kind of surprise I wanted twice in the same night. It also occurred to me, looking at the heavy wooden door and the impressive, modern lock with keypad, I might not be able to get in.

But when I tried the latch, it opened. Luck, it seemed, was with me for the moment.

A few minutes were lost fumbling in the dark for a light switch, before I could take in the wood paneling, carpet, and large desk, only slightly obscured by boxes. A small, round utilitarian wall clock. The Parahuman Response Team Shield and motto over one wall.

The Director's office was larger than Doctor Yates' office had been, and the piled boxes were arranged in neater, more ordered stacks all two deep. Though, maybe the disorder in Yates' office had been Gretchen's doing. There was a small pile of loose folders on the desk, but nothing more. There wasn't anything that really betrayed a sense of ownership, it was just a room that didn't belong to someone.

Director Foster had a standing lamp in one corner, a long couch and a fairly impressive desk made of real wood. But besides that, his office was quite empty. The bookshelves were bare, there were no framed pictures or art. He'd been gone before the boxes had been moved up here.

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me with a quick sigh, then got to work. I started at the far end, the boxes piled beside the desk. The boxes were more organized here, the labels easier to find and read.

The wall clock ticked away. I lost track of time, shifting through folders with names and numbers that meant nothing to me.

I found Elle's first. Brown. Her full name was Elle Brown.

Hesitation stilled my hands. It was thicker, heavier than mine had been. Which... Well, of course it was. Elle had been here years to my few months. It didn't mean anything by itself.

A deep breath, and I opened it.

Elle's vacant expression stared back at me from the front page. A little younger, still pale and golden. I started reading.

She was an orphan, had gotten passed around in the system. Four foster families were mentioned. Her life was not... It hadn't been perfect. But it hadn't been terrible either.

She'd won several art contests, gone on to some kind of statewide sculpting contest for school, big scholarships on the line. That was when it went wrong. Elle suffered some kind of episode, a fit. A panic attack. The gallery hosting the contest had transformed.

There was a note here, an analysis of her home life, written by a doctor I'd never heard of. I couldn't make heads or tails of it- something about consistent stressors...

Elle hadn't been arrested. In fact, in the original report, she hadn't been identified as the parahuman responsible. Her fugue was written off as shock. It wasn't until later, when she was being driven to the hospital the next day by a concerned foster parent that her power again manifested, on a highway overpass in the middle of rush hour deadlock. There had been injuries, tens of thousands in damages. The PRT had taken her into custody, and later remanded her to Alchemilla.

My spirits started to sink. I imagined a little girl, quiet, retreating into herself. Lost in her own head until her inner worlds escaped and no matter how much she wished, they wouldn't go back where they had been.

I kept reading... There was a long list of memos and reports dealing with power type and composition.

 _("As detailed in incident report 2-6, this is not strictly limited to solids. The water damage involved, not to mention the prevention of attempts to reach Labyrinth required a revision of her threat level. Due to the wide-ranging aspects of her power, and the tremendous potential for property damage, her threat assessment was advanced to Shaker 9...")_

None of Elle's foster families' contact information was listed in her file. I looked over her visitor logs, which started out intermittently, a few months of regular contact, one Christmas, and then contact tapered off.

Then there was Mimi. Never referred to by name, her case number appeared several times. First as a suggestion by one of the doctors, a mentor program for certain younger patients. Elle and Mimi had arrived during the first trials of the idea, and were some of a handful that had gravitated together and stayed there even after the program had shut down.

There were memos from several doctors, commenting that they seemed a poor choice for any involved group mentorship. The next page detailed Elle's medical history, a series of burns. Mostly minor, but constant and usually on her hands. Once or twice on her face. I had a good idea where she had gotten them. Was it just Mimi hurting Elle? No scuffles with other patients, why was Mimi the only one?

A visitors list, painfully thinly populated. It couldn't be that she never had contact with anyone else, could it? Even withdrawn as she was, there had to be someone, somewhere. Elle's bitterness and frustration came to mind, and left a sour taste in the back of my throat.

A long list of medications and jargon. Dissasociative disorder, episodes of catatonia. More summaries from therapists and attending doctors...

 _("Doctor Watts,_

 _I received your report on patient 078-02-07. I have also received reports from several of your colleagues and have arrived at a decision. I am authorizing her dosage be adjusted. Yes, I am aware of your feelings on the matter._

 _As a reminder, I have always been opposed to relaxing security protocol for our patients, regardless of therapeutic necessities. I am aware of 078's unique situation, and take this opportunity to remind you that the integrity and welfare of this facility, its staff, and residents is my first priority._

 _078 displays little control over her manifestation. Attempts to promote, suppress, or direct manifestation have met with limited success. Rehabilitation and socialization prospects are limited if she cannot control her power._

 _We need a solution to this problem. Last month's fit will not be repeated. 078 is being moved to Medium security clearance until further notice. Standard Protocols for Shaker with Suffusive/Imbuing properties in place. That is final.")_

The date was from more than a year ago...

And Blake had said Elle's fits had been repeated, had continued regularly. They hadn't found a solution. Not in years. How had that impacted Elle's therapy?

The folder in my hand shook slightly as I set it down.

Mimi. I needed to find Mimi's record. Maybe Mimi's was better, I couldn't imagine it was worse.

I was wrong.


	33. Eyas 4-9

**[A young hawk, an unfledged nestling taken from the nest for training.]**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

There was no caution when I found Mimi's folder, I opened it immediately, eagerly.

In her photograph, Mimi's face was puffy, and her cheek was swollen, starting to purple in a truly impressive bruise. The tear tracks of burns down her face were not there, her hair was longer- just a bit beyond her shoulders.

She wasn't gaunt, and her color was darker, healthier. The deep shadows under her eyes weren't there, Their absence marked by the twin smears of mascara this Mimi wore- like she'd been crying and had wiped it away. She looked a lot younger, more than I thought she ought to without the bags under her eyes.

Her full name was Mimi Harris. She'd been fourteen when she'd gained her powers. My age, she'd been my age. There had been a fire at her school prom. A list of deaths... pictures and even some newspaper clippings. I swallowed a sour taste in the back of my throat.

There were two fights on her highschool record, though I wondered if there were more that weren't reported. Stuff like that happened at school, sometimes. One suspension for shouting in class... A rough start to her freshman year. One doctor diagnosed her as probably having bipolar mood swings even before her power got involved.

She had existed on the social fringes, no clubs, no sports. Mediocre grades. A lonely and isolated freshman.

I remembered how I'd met her, crying into her knees.

Apparently that had all changed when a senior had asked her to the prom, but it wasn't to be. There had been some kind of altercation, but after that... most stories about what happened got confusing, the articles began to contradict themselves.

Two doctors theorized this was the point she'd gained her powers, and I suspected they were right.

A fire had broken out. Two alarm, an article explained, in a town small enough to only warrant one fire station. The school gym burned, followed by the cafeteria, and kept burning after the fire department arrived, even when they turned their hoses on them. Most of the school had gone up by the time the capes arrived. The fires resisted being doused in water after Cloudy and Seafarer arrived. It kept burning until Adamant arrived and waded in to find her at the epicenter.

Adamant had thought she was a villain, had attempted to detain her, and she'd fought them until the fires had been reduced sufficiently and she'd regained control, at which point she'd become hysterical.

Raging, uncontrollable sobbing gave way to shock, and then full catatonia. The local PRT transferred her to Alchemilla to be stabilize before she was rational enough to even be questioned.

I came back to myself and sat back, rocking back on my heels and letting the file fall back to the box. She'd been... She'd been a villain. I mean, Heather had insinuated she was. Said she'd killed people. Inkling had called her a villain.

Mimi herself was terrified of what her power made her do. She'd never gone out with the intent of stealing from or hurting anyone, but she'd attacked people. When heroes had shown up to try and save them, and tried to put out her fires, she'd attacked them. She'd killed people, and she had good reason to think it'd happen again. And the realization she'd attacked people, hurt people... Killed people... Mimi had needed medication to even hold a conversation after her Trigger Event.

Mimi thought of herself as a villain. I... I hadn't thought it was that bad...

The smell of the hospital, and the cloying scent of copper, and the feel I remembered. In the present I was numb, my fingers nerveless, but I remembered the feeling of the metal in my hands.

My throat tightened. Like me. She was like me, just like me.

I swallowed back the tightness in my throat and took a deep breath, steeling myself before I picked up her file again. I could do this.

Mimi's history after coming to Alchemilla was like her highschool career repeated over and over. Fights and outbursts. Mood swings and an endless series of medication adjustments. Her therepists came and went. She was a bad patient, hard to work with, or injured the staff, and they moved on to someone else. Or had to retire with their injuries. She was isolated, and isolated herself.

I felt hollow. Elle and I had stayed in solitary for three months, Mimi's in-processing kept her there for nearly five, and then she went straight to Medium security.

Where Labyrinth's introduction to Alchemilla had been marked by annoyances, the regular and uncontrolled manifestation of her power, the tone of Mimi's residency was different. Violent mood swings, outbursts and uncontrolled use of her power followed by crushing depression.

She did, I think genuinely try to integrate when she was given the chance, and the unending parade of bad news was marked, from time to time by notes from doctors or nurses that braved her flames- she wanted to do better. She didn't want to stay...

Injuries to security and nursing staff, a fight with another patient that had to be foamed down. A laundry list of damages...

Then Elle was introduced to her, they entered the mentor program. A bright spot disrupting the spial of negativity.

("Burnscar has shown significant improvement following partnering with Labyrinth. I just spoke with Beth and Doctor Laffayette, and Beth suggested her medications might not need adjustment next month if this pattern holds. After the past year, I'll take just about whatever good news we can get.")

I leafed through summaries and memos, feeling a little hunted. Graphs, names of chemicals and anatomy and words with four and five syllables.

There was exactly one visit on her visitor log, a month after she arrived. Her parents. After that? Nothing. Not a single visitor for four straight years. I couldn't bring myself to read the transcript attached to it.

And another...

("I restate my objection to using Labyrinth to leverage Burnscar's cooperation. Labyrinth's difficulties communicating mean that minor burns might be missed and that offers the added danger of promoting the mentality that violence is acceptable, if one of her peers is incapable of objecting or escaping.")

...Wasn't there anything I could use?

("I don't want to send another one of my patients to the Baumann Penitentiary. Burnscar is a difficult case. I want to be optimistic, but we have been bitterly disappointed before, with patients more cooperative and less dangerous.")

Mimi did better, she was more in control of herself, when she had friends. People she cared about to snap her out of her power's influence. I'd seen it happen. Haden't anyone else seen it happen, noticed? But every time I went looking, I found more reasons she wouldn't succeed. I flipped pages quickly, skimming now. Mimi could get out. Elle could get out too. They could, we all could.

We all could.

Others. I wanted, needed the success stories. I needed hope. Because every time I went looking, I found more reasons they wouldn't succeed.

I put Mimi's file back, and stood, looking at the other boxes that I had looked at, the ones I had not. Still, a half dozen to go.

My tired gaze wandered over the PRT shield on the wall- Ad Tuendam Pacem a Potentibus. Over the desk and the small collection of folders there. There were only a handful on the desk, and despite my morose mood I wondered who had been looking at them. Enough so that I stood, wearily, and walked over to Director Foster's desk..

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

I glanced at their labels on the tab dividers, then I had to stop and had to give them a longer second look in surprise. The moment passed, I pulled one from the pile. It was thick, and subdivided with the input from several different Doctors, but what had caught my attention was the name on the front- the patient's name.

Selmy, K.

Oh.

Kalie's files, I'd found Kalie's personal files.

Hesitation stilled my hands holding her folder. It was thicker, heavier than mine had been, closer to Mimi's. A deep breath, and I opened it.

The first thing I saw was a picture of Kalie, one much younger than the face I knew. Thinner, narrower; one eye and an ear were grossly swollen. I wondered what had to have done that, to leave half her face black and blue and more importantly, leave that kind of obvious state of injury despite her powers.

There were several loose photographs in the folder. One looked like a hospital baby picture with a faded and slightly smeared address scrawled on the back, Kalie was wearing a blue and white onesie, none of the more visible aspects of her power were present. She just... Looked like a normal baby. A series of photographs more like the first- early teens or a little younger. I could see her swollen face in the corner of one, but they framed other injuries, lacerations across her ribs with shirt raised to bare them... A puncture to her foot. The notes scribbled on the back with numbers and letters that meant nothing to me...

I picked through the papers, one looked like a summary of her medical history, blood type, a growth chart (I think...), the other was... I think it was a legal or criminal history. I remembered that she'd had one before Doctor Selmy had adopted her. There were three therapists that had regular contact with Kalie. Doctors Selmy, Marten, and Werneck. I skimmed Doctor Selmy's notes, then Doctor Werneck. I didn't stop and really read until I started reading Doctor Marten's input.

"...The subject is willful, intentionally rebellious even to its detriment. While much of this antipathy might be tied to its upbringing and formative years, I cannot ignore the possible agent stimuli. A common trend in subjects with demonstrated, heavily physical abilities is to be themselves inclined to physical expression. Given the violent history of the subject in question, it is my professional opinion that further ride-alongs be discouraged, and requests of that nature be deferred."

It made sense for clinical observations to have a purely clinical tone, sterile and Impartial- but it unsettled me. Probably because I knew her, knew the person... and they called her 'the subject' and 'it'.

It reminded me that I had been lucky with my therapists, they were all of them caring and compassionate, invested in my well being...

I leafed through more of Kalie's file, but that was most of it. A few more notes and a reference code to her Protectorate file. I set it down and reached for the other. My hands shook a little in anticipation.

Muradasilova, Maria Evetta. What a mouthful. Maria's folder was a bit thinner than Kalie's.

Opening it, I stared down at a picture, a mugshot. A girl glaring back with a sneer on her face and in her slouch, all so completely out of place on her compared to the person I knew. She had a small scar crossing her eyebrow, and a cut on her lip. Freckles. But her face was the same shape, the features still fit in broad strokes. It looked so utterly unlike Charnel it couldn't be her, but it was.… Charnel. It reminded me of an antique photograph with people sitting all stiff and wooden with the wrong color, the sepia tones but still recognizeably them.

This was like that, but in reverse, Charnel in person was washed out, wooden, and stiff. This girl- this Maria was alive, dynamic.

Another photograph, this one more familiar- her face was blank, the little imperfections like that scar and the freckles... Gone. Set side by side, the Charnel I knew looked like a mannequin displaying clothes, not a person.

I started paging through her file.

She was a minor villainess with the ability to rapidly regenerate any physical injury by bathing the wound in blood. There were some notes, about secondary powers, some enhanced strength, the ability to sense body heat or people.

I paged past the notes on her power and on to the ones for her personal history. Words jumped out at me, signposts that outlined who this stranger was. She was originally from San Francisco. Recruited into a gang young. A rap sheet. Drifting from one faction to another. Moved around a lot up and down the west coast...

Why was she all the way out here in Philidelphia, in New England? There couldn't be many hospitals that specialized in parahuman mental health, but surely there was one closer to the west coast? There was a gap in her history, about eight months of nothing. No lead-up. Prior she'd had a fairly steady trail of minor crimes, it was easy to follow- there was a summary of dates going back two years like footprints before suddenly she dropped off the face of the earth. And then she was found, in a Tinker's laboratory, her file didn't elaborate except with a footnote full of reference codes. What about the 'Professor'?

("...DNA confirmed a match, but aside from what are likely intentional cosmetic similarities the subject is fundamentally an entirely different individual. This goes beyond physical changes- emotional markers and behavioral patterns altered in a similar fashion, possibly by the same mechanism. Due to the profound alterations, the changes made to Charnel's body are effectively permanent. Consultation with Green Thumb, Mortician, Dragon, Armsmaster, and independent consultants listed in appendix E."

"It is worth noting that, due to the unknown nature of the power in question, it is safe to assume some manner of influence over Charnel, either at will, or with minimal preparation and resources. This assumption is reinforced by her increased suggestibility following her alterations. As such, Charnel, despite low violence or activity level as a patient, is designated Security-Level ORANGE, and full Stranger-7-B procedures are in effect."

"Accessory note: her condition bears similarities to patients listed under Case 53- PRT archival records, and two other patients (appendix B). Charnel also displays some infrequent symptoms similar to cases of a functioning Corpus Callosotomy Patient. (Alien hand, speech irregularities, ect)")

Notes on several other parahumans with similar powers: Crimson, Hemorhagia, Marquis... A list of prior accomplices and organizations.

I turned the page, wondering. More memos, more remarks from her doctors. Kalie came up several times. But few other names, Maria was very passive, the doctors kept saying. She hardly spoke and didn't seek out contact. She hardly did anything at all and even her therapy sessions were marked by how bland they were.

No Professor, and no explanation for the cosmetic changes either...

I dropped her file to the desk in frustration. I was here for answers. Answers, not more questions. Solutions, not problems. Nothing. My eyes were starting to ache, I closed them and massaged the bridge of my nose.

There was nothing.

I hesitated, looking at the time. Two thirty five. I had a little less than a half hour until the shift changed. Maybe fifteen minutes, if I wanted to get into position. I still needed to put everything here back in its place before I did...

I put everything back where I had found it, replaced lids and closed the door.

Alchemilla was starting to feel different now. With the shift change approaching, there was more movement. The early shift was stirring in the hospital proper, and there were a handful of people moving nearby. Staff arriving early?

Where I was, it was still nearly empty, I had the office block to myself beside Bralow, but I felt urgency. I didn't want to have to dodge more people once they started arriving.

I didn't need to visit the security station this time, Bralow was on the other side of the floor as I skirted around his patrol route. Just me and the cold blast of air conditioning, and the empty halls. I could move faster, more directly. It was like security didn't even matter...

I caught myself wondering if the effect would last even after they fixed all the cameras, what effect changing the floor layout would have. Would adding or tearing down a wall remove my prescience? Would it fade away, or remain in the last state I had observed it until I refreshed my connection?

The problem engrossed me so much I almost missed the sound of footsteps.

It was quiet, so quiet and muffled I hardly heard them. The steps were light, someone smaller than Bralow. Even listening, even pushing my power out around me. They had to be bare feet, or socks like me. In the dark, I froze, and my heart leaped to my mouth.

Everything jumped into focus as my power sharpened. For an instant, the dark didn't matter.

Sound out ahead -growing louder- the stranger was approaching from directly ahead. There was empty space behind the acoustic tile above me I could hide in. Further away, there were painter dowels, brushes, roller, screwdrivers, paint cans, screws, nails, a circular saw; things that could be used as weapons scattered across the floor. Fingernails needed trimming, getting long, they could be used as weapons. My muscles tensed, and I was flooded with an awareness of how I could leverage my strength, and how much it had increased since I'd taken up doing pushups.

I could backtrack five feet, to the junction in the hall, and duck into the room that was missing a door, try the lock on the door to my left, or run ahead a short distance and see if I could get past the next junction without being seen. That would put me in the lobby, where my options would be-

I had an instant to consider a course of action, and in the next moment I spun and darted back the way I had come.

The smell of new carpet, sawdust, and fresh paint was all around me. In the distance, I could still hear footsteps, but I wanted more. I couldn't see, but I pushed my power into my senses, trying to hold onto the spike of clairity. Like I had with my hearing in Elle's nightmare.

And as I put pressure on it, smell became nuanced. Fresh paint, and slightly-less fresh paint- The sensation of air moving on my skin, the way the draft from the open door was directed by the shape- My hand resting on the door frame, and the vibrations in the building; from the unfinished air conditioning, from-

Too much, I clenched my jaw and struggled to narrow my perception. The buzzing of the emergency lights faded from my hearing, the vibration of the footsteps sharpened under my hand.

Long seconds passed. A presence materialized in the hall, and a chill ran down my back when I realized, that while I could sense the movement and the sound, the vibrations- the effect this person had on the building around them... I couldn't focus my power on them. The source of the sound was a blank spot in my perceptions. Which... It probably meant a power.

Who- the bewildering thought. I knew patients that had some kind of resistance, or that confused my power. Gretchen, Charnel, Mantellum. But why would any of them be here?

A hitch in the footsteps, they turned the corner. I shrank soundlessly back against the wall, but didn't take my eyes off the empty door frame. I didn't retreat to the corner, didn't break line of sight- a curiosity held me there, watching.

The footsteps grew closer, slowly shuffling past, and then I saw.

White hair, tall, orange scrubs.

Charnel? Maria?

I almost said her name out loud. My blood froze at the realization- for just a moment, I almost spoke out loud. She stopped beside the door and my mouth snapped closed. She had some kind of power that allowed her to sense people, I remembered suddenly. She probably knew I was there.

"Why did you stop?"

The whisper was so quiet, I could barely hear it, even with my power. There was a rustle, and a tiny figure stepped around Charnel. It took me a moment to realize it was Marionette. I had seen her on occasion, but she'd been punished for her part in Lizard Prince's last infraction, and had spent most of a month in solitary. I couldn't see her face in the gloom, but my overclocked senses gave me the impression of the tiny doll-girl staring up at the taller doll-girl with arms full of plastic bags.

"...I thought I heard something." Charnel replied, "It was nothing."

Marionette huffed, closing her eyes. I held my breath again. I didn't know what Marionette's power was!

I tensed, still holding my breath. There was a flicker of... something, on the edge of my awareness. Just for an instant, and then Marionette shook her head. "I don't see anything either. Keep a lookout." She turned and started walking again, tugging once on Charnel's pants leg.

For just a moment, after Marionette had turned her back, I thought Charnel turned her head in my direction, but for only a moment. Then she was walking again, and both of them were gone, and I was left with only the quiet sound of Charnel's fading footsteps.

I thought about following them, I honestly did. But the notion passed. Why was Charnel here? Why were Marionette and Charnel here together? Charnel had never interacted with Marionette or any of Lizard Prince's circle that I had seen... I knew almost nothing about Marionette's power, but I was pretty sure Charnel had sensed me, and I wasn't entirely sure why she hadn't said so to Marionette.

...I shook my head. There was an ache behind my eyes, and the tension in my neck had started to settle in. I was probably going to have a proper headache tomorrow.

I climbed back down the stairs to the lobby, slipping past the tarp and through the door was almost an anticlimax. The elevator shaft vibrated with the sound of engines- the winch that pulled the elevators was active somewhere. Adjacent shafts were active, ferrying people to work. I could feel them, some of them, moving up and down around me. It helped me keep my mind off what I'd learned, and the questions I still had.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Later that morning, my headache was still there. Gretchen poked her head in before breakfast, grinning ear to ear. Somehow, though... the faint impressions I pulled from her were subdued. She didn't even try to sneak up on me, and only kind of... Poked her head in before flitting off with hardly a word. She didn't even ask how my search had gone. It was so out of character I hardly knew what to think.

Of course, my head was so full of questions and confusion I didn't remember to ask her either. Maybe there was something on both our minds.

Breakfast passed quickly. Elle was able to eat by herself, and Mimi didn't immediately gravitate to me. Instead, she sought out Gretchen, shyly hovering at the edge of our conversation until Gretchen reached out and waved her arm through her face a few times and startled her. I turned up my cheerfulness and energy enough to get something going. Elle even got in on it a little.

It was... Pleasant. IIt was nice. Adequate. tried to be pleased with the progress everyone was making, and to ignore the lingering words. "Reccomended increased doesage." "Poor long-term prognosis." "No signs of treatment efficacy."

I tried. My thoughts kept spinning in circles until I caught myself and took a deep breath, only to find myself biting my lip and watching my friends. Assessing them with a new perspective.

My nightly excusion had remained undetected, I guessed. A part of me expected something to happen, some doctor with a concerned expression pulling me aside, or two burly security guards to ask to have a word with me. Nothing. It was just weirdly normal. Even Gretchen hardly tried to scare anyone.

She remained frustratingly hard to read.

We had our first real recital that afternoon, I ran into Doctor Widmark and a pile of scripts on the way there. He wanted to know if I wanted to take charge as the director right off the bat, or if I wanted to take it slow at first.

We met in the gymnasium this time, on the stage behind the basketball court and the energy was positively frenetic almost entirely due to Heather, whose bombastic posturing could be heard in the hallway. Of course, the moment I stepped through the door with Elle and Mimi, all of that intense chaotic energy was focused on us.

Quilt was attempting to escape her. When she saw us she very pointedly and loudly said "Oh hey Auspice!" Handing the problem off to someone else, but I couldn't begrudge being the lightning rod. At least Heather seemed to be feeling better.

"Heeey!" Heather crowed, bouncing over, "I already talked to Gretchen, and I want to hear all about you-know-what!"

I maneuvered Elle to the front row, and swept the room with a glance. The number of patients attending had swelled, though Heather said many of them were just coming to watch us make fools of ourselves. There were about twenty- I think the entire ward must have shown up. A handful of nurses moved among the patients, shepherding them. A pall floated over the gathering, anticipation mingled with resignation. I could not determine where one began and the other ended, or from whom I felt it. Too many of the audience were passing acquaintances, and I hardly knew them.

Elle tugged against my grip, pointing plaintively towards the table beside the stage littered with scripts where Doctor Widmark was trying to set everything up.

"Alright, we-" And that was all I had time to say before Elle pulled me along behind her as she made for the table.

Widmark smiled, wiping his brow as I arrived. We didn't waste time on introductions as I jumped to organizing his stack of scripts, letting him run over to start coordinating the nurses. A couple people asked me questions, but all I could really do is pass them on to Doctor Widmark.

I did grab one of the sample scripts for Elle. She had less trouble holding it than I thought she would, though turning the pages was a little tricky. I helped her when she huffed in frustration.

A shadow fell over us, it was Heather. Back and still grinning. Her energy spilled over me like a wave of static electricity, crackling between her and everyone nearby.

And she wouldn't leave Elle alone. "Awww, you're so adorable," she cooed, pinching Elle's cheek. Elle gave me a look, but I could feel her simmering anger and resentment under her blank stare. She turned back to stare at Heather fumed, staring blankly back at Heather's grin. Glaring in a way only I could see. Behind the frustration and resentment, every time she pinched Elle's cheeks Elle was only a year younger than I was, and it was a little startlying just how much she hated being treated like a baby.

"Heather..." I chided. "Elle really doesn't like it when you pinch her cheeks like that."

"Yeah, yeah." Heather let go and turned to me. "You and I are gonna talk later. You have officially joined the bad girls club! You see Gretchen or Feral?"

"I saw Gretchen this morning," I said. "She said she had something. There was something last night too, you know anything about that?"

"Ooooh, she better come," Heather said, and bounded off to bother Prowler. "Hey, Whiskers-"

Elle watched her go.

I could only sigh as Elle fumed silently. "Don't be like that. She doesn't mean anything by it." Heather wasn't a bad sort... But she needed to be taken in small doses.

Elle answered with a quiet sigh and a flick of her eyes that was... A 'yeah, sure'? I was almost positive. It never failed to make me look twice, just how sassy Elle could be in her own head.

"Stupid." Elle muttered.

Heather nearly got into a fight with Prowler when she asked if he wanted to be 'the guy with the ass-face thing'. Doctor Widmark defused the situation and explained Bottom had a donkey's head, and no, Heather, stop that.

I was watching when Kalie walked through the gym door, Gretchen floating behind her.

"Hey, Taylor!" Kalie grinned.

"Hey," I replied a little limply. Heather immediately detached from Prowler and huddled with Gretchen, whispering. I was curious, but I was fairly certain they'd corner me later and I'd be able to ask my questions then. Ask why she'd had to leave, ask how I was supposed to help Mimi. Ask if anyone had ever heard about a 'Professor'.

The conversation milled around me, I couldn't muster the energy to engage it. Mimi hovered beside Quilt and Oilbloom, nervous enough I didn't need my powers to tell, and awkwardly attempted to hold a conversation. Kalie seamlessly joined in and included her. Why couldn't I do that?

"All right, we will start casting in a few minutes," Doctor Widmark said. "Does everyone have a copy of the script? I can print more..."

Doctor Widmark began to explain the roles and lines and how many places were available, and I tuned him out, thinking. My mind was only half in the present. Even after couple patients took the stage. I hardly heard them until Elle tugged my sleeve again. "Elle?"

She paused, opening her mouth soundlessly, instead of speaking, she pointed. Ah, she wanted to get up on the stage.

It took me a moment to connect, "Sure, sorry. Let's get you up there."

I helped Elle stand and climb the stair beside the stage.

But then, as I turned to walk back down, I froze. A chill down my spine, and then a prickle of goosebumps as all the little hairs on the back of my arms stood up.

The rest of the room receded, falling away as my attention sharpened to a knife's edge. There, on the back row of the improvised auditorium, hands folded primly in her lap, face serene, was Charnel.

I hadn't seen her arrive. She hadn't been in the room before us, I... I was sure of it.

But, when? When had she walked in?

Our eyes met across the room, and there was no spark of recognition.


	34. Interlude Lafayette

Alchemilla took on an eerie quality at night. The day staff were at home, with only the night nurses and security patrolling the halls. There was an inviolate element to the silence- if one stood and listened, the quiet was a little too complete for little too long.

Thomas was post head today, dutifully consulting her task code with his reader. "It's a green light. Anything metal on you, doc?"

Doctor Lafayette placed her phone and earrings in the check-in box. One of the security team briefly waved her up and down with a hand scanner, everything by the book.

"You're clear doctor," The lead said.

"Thank you, Tom. Have a good night." When the elevator eventually opened, the cheery chime sounded out of place.

Doctor Lafayette waited for the doors to close, then, instead of pushing one of the buttons on the board, she pulled out her staff ID on its lanyard, and slid it into a reader above the buttons.

A buzzer sounded overhead, and she lifted her head to stare directly into the camera dome above the elevator doors.

"Specialty containment please, Jaime. Today's entry code is red, star, streamer, grey, nineteen."

The buzz sounded again, and the elevator started to move.

Doctor Lafayette did not speak, she remained standing in the corner, back straight. Her face was calm, but one hand remained tense on the spine of the folder in her hands.

The elevator stopped once, adjoining another elevator midway. Doctor Lafayette moved in the second elevator and continued her descent.

When this second elevator opened she shook herself, breathing in deep, steadying herself before she stepped out into a broad, well-lit hallway. Here the floor, walls, and ceiling were sterile white, and an alarm-red border ran along the floor. A sign on the wall read 'Special Containment 2' and was flanked by a large orange hazard sign- WARNING: You are entering a restricted area, parahuman abilities may be in use, personal safety cannot be ensured.

This was a different part of Alchemilla. One not open to the public.

Foam nozzles and camera domes alternated every other tile on the ceiling. Doctor Lafayette glanced at them before taking a deep breath and stepping forward.

It was quiet enough that every step clicked sharply on the floor and echoed hollowly. She passed a heavy door, solid metal and thick hinges, round. Like a bank vault or airlock, a tiny window in the very center. There was a second, wider window set deep into the wall beside it, behind a cage of two-inch metal bars. Doctor Lafayette caught movement out of the corner of her eye on the other side, a silhouette moved suddenly, but when she looked it was gone. In the room, on the opposite wall- large, garish words were scrawled in red, green, and orange and underscored with a grinning skull. 'You look WONDERFUL today.'

 _Mr. Wonderful._

Lafeyette passed more heavy doors and barred windows, some shuttered, some not. Each pair of windows and doors were flanked on either side by additional posted warning signs. Doctor Lafayette shivered. Distantly, faintly through her feet, the vibration of an impact. Was it her imagination, or had the shutters moved slightly?

 _Hatchetface. Catskin._

The windows were completely soundproof, but she swore she could hear distant singing. Haunting, distorted sound without a source, fading in and out. Humming and then singing, she could almost hear...

The distant humming and singing was growing louder.

 _Pretty Sammy. Lazaretto. White Noise._

She picked up the pace, and didn't slow until she reached the end of the hall, and another door. Doctor Lafayette keyed this one open as well.

On the other side of the door, Doctor Lafayette resumed walking, this time through a room. It was an octagon, with four walls an intersection of four doors, and caged windows set between. The middle of the room was a solid black monolith of one-way glass. This was the security booth, completely sealed and only accessible from the levels above. She turned left and passed one of the windows. It was unshuttered and a man with dark skin stood on the other side. Bare-chested, heavily muscled and huge, mouth open as he screamed- but no sound reached her through the soundproofing. He raised a fist and punched the glass. The vibration of an impact shuddered through her feet again. Another window was filled with a flurry of movement. A pale blur skittered across the glass, long-limbed fingers settled before they again jerked away.

 _The Horde. Wendigo._

Doctor Lafayette breathed deeply and evenly, and tried not to look as she walked across the lobby. She keyed open the door on her left, labeled 'Access, Obvtn A-B', and walked into the observation room.

And found her greeting party waiting for her.

The light was muted, primarily filtering in from the picture window, currently opaque and fogged. A monitoring pit was positioned in the center of the floor, surrounded by a cloud of suspended screens with two nurses currently working the stations. Closer to the windows, Doctor Lafayette caught a glimpse of Grudge and Kudzu seated by the coffee machine.

Lafayette greeted the nurses first. "Gabby. Kenneth."

"Good evening Doctor!" Gabby said. Ken looked up briefly, and tossed a quick wave her way.

Gabby hopped up and held out a clipboard with a folded piece of paper on it. "Here's your checklist. Don't forget today's call words and M/S protocol." Gabby said. Over Gabby's shoulder, Doctor Lafayette caught sight of one of the monitors displaying a workshop. Two men working at tables strewn with wires and electronics. A shadow passed across the camera's line of sight and Doctor Lafayette looked away quickly.

"How are we looking?" She asked.

"Primary reservoir is full and sprayers are green. Secondary and tertiary too. Cameras are all green, except for number eight, but that was from last month. We have the go-ahead on that. Ken is giving the gas, ultrasonic, and infrared array a quick look over, but that's fine so far." Gabby said.

Good... That was good. The pamphlet on the clipboard was labeled 'Lafayette - 72114 - Eyes Only' and the date. Lafayette started reading the security and hazard summary, worked her way through the list of safety features that would save her life if things went wrong. The armored shutter that would slam down over the windows, the foam dump that could flood the room in five seconds. Blast doors. A 'Panic Box', a tiny booth that would seal itself the moment more than ten pounds landed on a pressure plate. If Kenneth wanted to, he could seal off the patient room itself, it even had its own air supply... The list was long. It didn't ease the sense of underlying hind-brain disquiet that visiting Special Containment elicited in her.

Gabrielle Daniels and Kenneth Donnelly were two of the best and brightest they had, both had been working down in special containment for months. Doctor Lafayette didn't know how they did it.

Lafayette took another deep, cleansing breath and steadied her hand on the pamphlet. This one wasn't dangerous. He'd been here for years. He was cooperative. And his hazard rating was low because of that.

She smudged her finger across the box labeled 'Daycode' on the final page, in moments a chemical reactant on the paper and the oil on her hands darkened, revealing her Master/Stranger pass code. She committed it to memory, ten seconds later, the code faded away, leaving only the blank page behind.

She closed the procedure pamphlet.

"That's all of it," Doctor Lafayette handed the clipboard back to Gabby. "Anything from the Thinkers?"

"Nothing, all protocol checks are green. He's just... working."

Doctor Lafayette nodded, "Give me the green light when you're done with redundancies." she cleared her throat, mouth dry. "...I'm going to need some water."

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

"Unlocking outer doors. Stand by, Doctor."

The airlock seal broke with a hiss of negative pressure, followed by a meaty thud as the heavy plates rolled to the side. Doctor Lafayette swallowed once and glanced to the side, at Grudge and the Kudzu clones where they waited. Slowly, Grudge returned her glance with a nod.

She stepped through the first airlock. Behind her, the airlock closed, and an eerie silence descended. A distant thunk as the mechanical lock was engaged behind her. A full sensor suite dominated the ceiling with short, blocky antenna. The room was circular, allowing three tiny cameras to track her at all times from multiple angles. Under the floor tiles were pressure plates and heat sensors, and more exotic sensors like electromagnetic tripwires and seismographs. Every sound and heartbeat was recorded inside this room.

The second airlock disengaged without a sound, this time simply a vibration she felt through the soles of her feet, and the armored plate rolled aside.

On the other side a long, narrow room stretched about thirty feet with a wide window taking up the entire length of the wall. Like the larger windows outside, it was fogged and opaque at the moment. The room was nearly entirely bare, with only a single chair, a padded easy chair that allowed staff to converse with the patient, and a single small table.

She walked to that chair and sat down, taking several deep breaths, and set her bottle of water on the table.

"All right, I'm turning it on."

"Roger, Doctor." Grudge replied over the intercom, "Testing panic button, two clicks?"

Doctor Lafayette dutifully clicked the discreet button on the bracelet, set against the inside of her wrist, "Two clicks."

"You're green, go ahead Doctor."

Doctor Lafayette nodded, closed her eyes, and took another calming breath.

A shape passed behind the glass. Tall and hulking, hunched. Alien. Unlike any human shape. After a moment, it moved away from the glass, growing indistinct until it dissipated entirely.

He had a moniker long before he was committed, though one not widely or famously known now, except in certain circles. Many years before, he had been one of the very first Tinkers.

Now... He was patient seven-two-one-one-four.

He possessed another name in the paperwork associated with his admitting to Alchemilla; Splice- his new moniker. Weak on paper, his power primarily dealt with composite solids.

She hesitated to call him by either name; she hesitated to call what lived in that room human.

"Good evening, Doctor. Procrastinating my company?" A voice intruded, clear and completely unhindered by the barrier between them.

Lafayette opened her mouth, her voice remained even. "Not quite, Professor Haywire." No more dallying. She reached for the remote set on the chair's armrest. At the press of the button the glass cleared, and she could see the cell beyond.

Haywire's holding cell was much larger than was typical, even in the case of patients permanently ensconced in the Isolation Ward. The scale reminded Doctor Lafayette of lecture halls back in college.

It was eighty feet from the observation room window to the back wall, and the ceiling thirty feet high. Haywire's workshop.

The walls were seamless metal plates, the ceiling lights were recessed and sealed off from the room itself. Tables and and workbenches crowded the room, and scaffolding supporting a network of wires hung from the ceiling until the room resembled an electronic jungle. The walls and lights were mostly obscured by aisles of shelving stocked with wire, disassembled electronics, nuts and bolts, boxes and boxes of equipment across much of the back wall. The lights threw sharp and deep shadows in jagged patterns over the walls and across the shelves.

An elaborate chemistry assembly and several gallon tanks filled with liquid took up one corner. All around the tanks a complex superstructure arrangement of plumbing and scaffolding radiated out and connected to a pump assembly. Bundles of wires connected to a computer, and an array of several screens. Something that resembled a gigantic magnifier on an articulated arm suspended over a table. Almost hidden behind that was a tank with a silvery, metallic spider pacing inside. Another desk was occupied by multiple towering piles of folders and books. Whiteboards on wheels divided the work space in an uneven line. One covered with line upon line of tiny, neat handwriting. The other in mathematical equations.

From were Lafayette sat, she could see multiple camera domes on the ceiling; but Haywire was nowhere to be seen.

"Please come out, no games."

Haywire's first head emerged from over the window. White porcelain like a mannequin head at the end of a long, white segmented arm. There were too many segments and it didn't move like a limb or a neck. The head was gripped in an articulated claw with three fingers.

The arm was followed by too many grasping hands and back-jointed limbs, and finally Haywire's body, a mass of segmented porcelain shell and shifting black artificial muscle. Three heads swiveled to look at Doctor Lafayette. The middle one- held more closely to the abomination's chest -was the source of the voice.

"Doctor Lafayette, my guest once more." The voice was crisp and clear as if he shared the room with her, unimpeded by the wall of glass- but the head's mouth did not move.

"It has been some time. How are you?" Doctor Lafayette asked.

"Well enough." Haywire settled, limbs unfurling to grasp the observation window, hanging off it and filling it. Doctor Lafayette had to force herself not to lean away as it blotted out the light. The other two heads wandered back and forth on their respective arms, eyeing her from new angles.

"Haywire, we were hoping to talk with you about a technical concern."

A man stepped to the window, around the abomination- Doctor Lafayette jumped. He didn't wear scrubs, instead a pale blue shirt and brown slacks, untucked and rumpled respectively, and a long white lab coat.

She had a good look at his face, sallow, pale, with an unhealthy grey cast. His eyes were deeply sunken in his face, and lowered to a tangle of wires and what looked a lot like a soldering iron in one hand, and a circuit board in the other.

"Doctor, I am ever at your disposal." The man said (the head held in the claw said), "But my time is limited. I only have so many hands." A finger tapped the glass, one of the three-fingered claws.

"Haywire. Please."

It paused, then the creature he had become drew back. "...Very well." His claws adhered to the sheer glass, back up onto the ceiling and back over the workshop, climbing up and down the scaffolding. Like a spider, its many limbs carried it over desks, beakers, electronics; skittering and scrabbling over tables and desks with deceptive delicacy.

On the far side of the whiteboards, a second thin spindly man with wild grey hair appeared, bent over a notebook, busily transcribing notes to the boards. This one also wore a lab coat, but under it he had red scrubs on. He didn't look up from his notes, and moments later he passed behind the board again without looking up.

Clicking on the floor, the construct pushed past the whiteboards, melting back into the jagged shadows of the shelves and machinery.

"There, Doctor." The man, or what looked like a man, remained. The one in slacks and shirt. On the other side of the glass, Haywire hmmed thoughtfully, pulling up one of his desk chairs and taking a seat. "I apologize. I know you don't like it when I loom."

"Thank you." Doctor Lafayette said, and finally her voice wavered.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Imagine, the dawn of parahumans. It is 1984, and an unnatural meteor shower impacts and scars many earths. The first manifestation of powers, still not widely known, and the divergence of worlds. Earth Bet, Earth Aleph, and Earth Gimel; each similar, each different. On each of these three worlds were people, some more similar than others. But in each case, there was Doctor Samuel Hayden. And back then, so close to the divergence, he had the same life three times over.

Twins often developed powers in pairs. Duplicates, or two different powers closely aligned in some way.

It was rare- vanishingly rare, for people in multiple dimensions to develop powers that were linked in this way. But Doctor Samuel Hayden had, and in doing so had become Professor Haywire.

In Professor Haywire's case, he had developed powers three times, each case slightly different, and in each case they were linked, sharing the same mind -a facet of his powers' focus, the thresholds between dimensions.

He had broken down the barriers between Earth Bet and Earth Aleph, and his bodies had come together, joining forces. He had found a way to link more variations of himself to the collective. What had happened in the course of those experiments was unclear, Haywire's explanations elusive, but he had sought asylum at Alchemilla after the experiment that had created his... Counterpart.

The thing was comprised of his other selves, dissected, cut apart and put back together. It was anyone's guess how many minds had been appended to the man sitting across from her.

Professor Haywire was not a patient- he was, technically, a voluntary resident; knowledge of the nature of his agreement with the PRT was heavily restricted, but one of the conditions was that his creation accompany him.

His inclusion on and consultation in several other key projects made his case an odd one in the Board. His willing cooperation was something he could leverage if he decided to, and the Board was often hesitant to jeopardize it.

Doctor Lafayette watched as limbs snaked out from under and over a desk, manipulating circuit boards, constructing something Lafayette couldn't name. It resembled a computer's central processor or a mainframe- with multiple layers of circuits inside a black metal box the size of a small refrigerator. The entire assembly sat surrounded by braids of colorful wires. Haywire wandered over to examine the work, and add his own circuitboard to the collection.

"It is ugly, isn't it?" Haywire sighed, Lafayette's attention snapped to the new Haywire- sitting down in the chair across from her, the one with red scrubs and a lab coat. His face was nearly identical to the second Haywire's. Also sallow, pale, also with an unhealthy grey color. "Please don't lie, I know it is."

Doctor Lafayette took a sip of water. "It... looks much better than it did." Lafayette said diplomatically.

A mass of organs, electronics, limbs, and three of Haywire's heads; yes, after a fashion it looked much better. When Professor Haywire had arrived, his creation had given her nightmares that drove her, and many others, to sleepless nights.

"Prototypes are always messy things. I was... in something of a bad place after that." Professor Haywire said, the huge, hunched shape moving behind him. "Is this Armstrong attempting to feel out my intentions? Wondering, perhaps, why I haven't run?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It has been a trying year. Upheaval and disruptions in the staff, and patients." Doctor Lafayette said, "There are a lot of eyes on us right now. The Board are worried about the stability of the facility."

Which didn't answer the question, but allowed him to form his own conclusions.

"As well they should be." Haywire said, with that amused, thin-lipped smile, "Tell me about this project."

"Armstrong is looking to consult on new security." Doctor Lafayette said, "He is looking to overhaul the system."

He looked intrigued at that. "Metal and concrete are effective enough. Simple, reliable, but also one-dimensional. If I designed the security here, I would implement planal separation barriers proof against a wider range of exotic effects. A millimeter separation into which no force from two disparate dimensions can cross. It might be more practical reserved for specific cases, however. Cases that call for it. Facility-wide implementation would... It would not be cheap."

"Would that prevent Labyrinth's worlds from manifesting through them?"

"Hmm. Good question." Haywire said, "In my work with little Labyrinth... The girl creates what she dreams in empty worlds, her power then brings what she creates to what plane she occupies and it imposes those worlds upon others... I suspect it would be the same with any altered space I create. The best I might do without deeper investigation is create a dimensional pocket segregated from her- but preventing her influence from overwriting... Hmmm..." He mused, "I might be able to devise a solution to Labyrinth's problem, but I would need access to her."

It was unclear which direction the Board would fall on that. Giving patients, or un-diagnosed residents, in this case, more autonomy in any capacity was always regarded with skepticism, Haywire in particular. Let alone interaction with someone as powerful as Labyrinth. The Board was never comfortable with Professor Haywire. If he was quiet, they wondered what he was planning. If he became erratic they anticipated an attempt to escape, or another of his mercurial moods.

There were members of the PRT Director's board that believed he was dangerous, and that Alchemilla could not contain him in the event he seriously attempted escape.

That was ridiculous, of course. It wasn't even a question, if Professor Haywire wanted to escape they wouldn't be able to contain him. Doctor Lafayette doubted that even the Birdcage would stymie him for long. There were some on the Board who wondered occasionally who was more powerful. Professor Haywire, or Hero himself.

Doctor Lafayette allowed the silence to linger too long.

"...I could draw up plans for upgrades." Haywire continued, "An extensive project like this would occupy a fraction of my attention. A little less tedium and boredom... I will not do this for free." He said.

"What do you want?"

"I want the files for patients 102-12-11, 005-02-09, and 020-10-99." Professor Haywire said, "Whole, and unredacted."

Doctor Lafayette bought herself a second with another sip of water, glanced at the piles of files on one of Haywire's desks. And wondered, fervently, where he had found those file numbers. "May I ask why you want those three?"

"Scientific curiosity."

Doctor Lafayette wanted to say no, but the Board had a history of giving Haywire clearance. It had served as the foundation of the the data drawn on for development of his power suppressant. There was real precedent. The Board liked the technology Haywire produced; and, from the board's perspective, there was little risk and little ethical complication in granting a researcher files when that researcher had consistently delivered what they wanted.

Even if that researcher was Haywire.

"I will pass your recommendations along to Armstrong." Doctor Lafayette said, hedging, "But he is going to want outside consultation."

Far from disappointed, Haywire's face lit up. "Young Dragon, and Armsmaster too, I hope. Maybe even Hero himself!" Professor Haywire leaned in eagerly, "I love to see their take on my work. I was thinking of a siphon drawing on planal entropy as a power source. I've only managed a device the size of a car, if Dragon and Armsmaster could reduce the size...Or Hero..." Haywire drifted away from the window, towards the desk with the screens. He sat down at the keyboard.

"Ah, but you aren't interested in the technical details." Doctor Lafayette shrank back as spindely arms lowered Haywire's hunched body from the ceiling once more. Two of his heads remained focused on a collection of beakers juggled between four arms, like a mass of snakes. The third head stared at her, unblinking.

"Not my field of expertise." She admitted a little breathlessly. Which was a problem. Haywire liked nothing more than to talk about his ideas, and he became bored when he had to explain them out to his therapists. She suspected that had she been an engineer it might have been easier to talk to him.

His creation passed in front of the lights, a flash of shadow across her, limbs darting to replace the beakers in the chemistry assembly, selecting a new set of capsules. "I apologize for my appearance. My other projects are proceeding ahead of schedule but this form remains a point of frustration. The sticking point remains tissue suspension. Pure biology has always been finicky for me."

"I-I understand that is a common complaint for Tinkers."

"Hmm. My power was more rigid, before my... Ah, 'accident'. Feeling out my new limits has been..." He trailed off.

"Is it helping you feel more centered? More grounded?"

He hesitated, "Perhaps." The head swung back and forth on its arm. Not like any human gesture she could place, "Thank you for your concern Doctor, but it really isn't necessary."

The creature crawled off across the ceiling once more. Then Haywire was back, the one with the blue shirt and slacks, "I wonder, who will our new Director be, now that Foster has left us?"

That brought her up short, Doctor Lafayette frowned, "I don't know yet. Director Foster left us very suddenly. How did you find out?"

"Oh, word gets around Doctor. And I get so very bored sometimes while I wait for the fabricator." He leaned back, smiling guilelessly.

Doctor Lafayette took a deep breath, "If you would like, we could try introducing some new activities." Her fingers shifted on the folder.

"I am content with the current arrangement." Haywire said, his tone flat.

She opened the folder and briefly glanced at it, "The last time you took a social call was nearly three years ago. We do have a pen pals program. There are several Tinker volunteers you might be interested in talking to."

Haywire sighed, a strange sound without the accompanying body language. "Doctor Lafayette. Would you like a little friendly advice, on some new activities? If you intend to take up dating again, I would suggest you reinvent yourself, add something new to your wardrobe... You wear the same clothes to work, honestly."

The back of Doctor Lafayette's neck prickled, and the hairs on the back of her arms stood up.

"I understand you've been out of the game a while, but the kids are all gone to college now." Haywire said, "Get a nice car. Consider losing the minivan. You aren't going to get a date driving one of those."

Doctor Lafayette took a deep breath and counted to ten. She tried to to imagine how he knew, and maybe he didn't, just more games. Tried not to imagine him knowing her son and daughter, their faces. Tried not to imagine something unseen watching while she slept, while she showered. She felt dirty, greasy, her skin crawled.

"I take it you don't want me to follow that line of questioning further?"

Haywire smiled thinly, "If you don't mind. I am not your patient." Haywire said, he gave her a knowing look, "Where were we?"

Doctor Lafayette pasted a smile on, trying very hard. "One more thing I wanted to cover. Have... Any of your materials gone missing since Labyrinth's world manifested?"

"Oh? No, nothing of note. Should I run an inventory?"

She hesitated, "Probably."

His attention remained sharp, "Did you find something interesting? What was it?"

"Some kind of module pad. We... showed it to some Tinker consultants, and they are saying it might be a teleportation pad with dimensional tethers. Whatever that means."

"I could look at it, see what I can." Haywire offered, eyes bright, "It sounds fascinating."

Doctor Lafayette studied his face a moment before shrugging, "I'll pass it along to Doctor Sanchez."

"Of course, of course." Professor Haywire said, "Before you go, how is my counterpart, my opposite?"

"You know I cannot talk about other patients with you, Haywire." Doctor Lafayette said, automatically. That much she could say, even if he had the file.

"Oh, I do. Hmm... Our powers are so very, very similar. And yet, so different, he inspires me to such heights." A flicker of annoyance, then a sigh, "Do send my regards to dear Kevin."

"We cannot take messages to The Horde. You know this, Haywire."

A shadow moved across the window, the hunched shape of his creation scuttled across the ceiling. It crossed in front of the lights, silhouetted against the light, before it slipped back behind the scaffolding and the shelves. Clicking and scraping, the three heads watching her with empty eyes."I have to get back to work. Will that be all, Doctor?" it said.

"I think we're done," she said, trying to smile.

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

Observation room B could be reached through a short access hallway at the back of Observation A, each could be isolated from the other for security purposes. The second observation room was smaller, more tightly contained. It lacked the full command center in room A. Instead it had a long conference table with two laptops set out on it, the screen cast a dim light across the room towards the shuttered window.

There was a projector on the ceiling. A whiteboard on one wall. A pair of chairs, a pot of coffee and mugs. And it was here that she found Director Armstrong waiting for her, standing in front of the wide window overlooking Haywire's cell.

Doctor Lafayette gathered herself, "Director Armstrong, good evening."

The Director was a tall, slender man in his forties. Well-built and broad shouldered, a sharp jawline, and just a hint of grey starting to creep in on his temples. He had that characteristic straight-backed posture that spoke of military experience. He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it 'good morning' now?"

Doctor Lafayette glanced at her watch, "Technically."

Two burly PRT troopers flanked the Director, safely screened between them. Pinpoint stood beside them, positioning himself beside the table.

"Are you all right, Felicity?" Director Armstrong asked.

"I will be," She replied, faintly, "It's his usual mind games. It was a good day, for him."

The Director turned slightly to address the laptops on the conference table. The first showed a narrow-faced man with black hair, and a neatly trimmed beard and goatee.

"This is Doctor Judas Saybrooke. He's a senior psychiatrist from Santa Rosa, he's been tapped for the position of Director at Alchemilla. With some luck, he will be arriving next month to familiarize himself with Alchemilla."

The man nodded tightly, "It's a pleasure."

"I must have missed the memo," Doctor Lafayette hedged. She needed to check her email more often.

Santa Rosa was on the west coast. Lafayette frowned, Gerald Selmy had been at Alchemilla longer than even Director Foster. She had been at Alchemilla herself for several years. Why bring in an out of house psychologist, someone unfamiliar with the patients and problems of Alchemilla when their own administrative staff were perfectly qualified?

She frowned, more Board meddling...

"And you've met Dragon." He said, and tilted his head, the screen displayed a section of desk and the back of a chair. Most of the room itself was hidden in the dark, except for a few blinking lights in the background. "We were just discussing your interview with Haywire. What do you think of our problem, Dragon?"

"It was a good day, for Haywire, and that's what worries me. If he lost some equipment, and we found it, he should be reacting to that and he isn't. Why?" As Doctor Lafayette watched, a young woman stepped into view, carrying a coffee mug with a dinosaur on it, wearing a green mechanics jumpsuit, a massive tool belt, and sporting an impressive pair of orange headphones.

She was pretty enough, brown hair and eyes. She looked maybe twenty-five, average build. But, try as she might, Lafayette couldn't place her ethnicity. Her most remarkable feature was how average she was. Doctor Lafayette had been slightly disappointed when she had first met Dragon. She had always thought one of the most powerful Tinkers in the world would look more striking.

Armstrong inclined his head to Doctor Lafayette, "Your thoughts, Doctor?" Director Armstrong asked.

Lafayette hesitated, glancing towards the laptops, and Dragon. "Are we...?"

"There are eavesdropping protections built into that laptop, the best I have." Dragon said, "If we aren't in the clear then he can listen in anywhere." Which wasn't a yes, but they had to assume he had some limits. That his power was not omnipresent.

Armstrong turned, and Doctor Lafayette stepped up to the window beside him. Director Armstrong took a seat. To delay the inevitable, she filled two mugs with coffee. Dragon had the right idea.

"Coffee?" She offered.

"Thank you, Doctor." Armstrong accepted the mug, and she sat down beside him.

Lafayette lifted her mug to her lips and the heat filled her stomach and moved out into the rest of her. She felt better immediately.

"This is a bad time to do this, Charles." Doctor Lafayette continued, less hoarse, "He knows we're short staffed and overwhelmed."

"Which is why I'm bringing our guest some interesting problems to keep him busy." Director Armstrong replied, "Open it."

Pinpoint stepped to the side, thumbing a button beside the window. Doctor Lafayette took a deep breath as the shutters parted and Haywire's laboratory was laid out in front of her again. Haywire was working at the computer, the one in blue and brown. The red one was moving back in the shelves. The twisted mass of flesh and ceramic white was nowhere to be seen. The glass was one-way, reinforced and sensor-dampened, neither of them looked up, but part of Doctor Lafayette always wondered if the creature could actually see through it. On the table, Doctor Saybrooke leaned forward.

"Doctor?"

Lafayette gathered her thoughts, her hesitation hidden behind a long swallow from her mug.

"The teleporter might be his."

"But he lied about it."

"But he lied about it, yes." Doctor Lafayette said, "If it was his."

Armstrong paced slowly in front of the window. Behind him, on the laptop, Saybrooke frowned.

"Dragon. You mentioned behavioral algorithms last time Haywire came up. Has there been any progress?" Armstrong asked, gesturing with his mug to Haywire at work.

"No luck." Dragon replied, "It might be his power simply introduces too many variables."

"Could it be intentional?" Director Armstrong asked.

Dragon hesitated, then shrugged, "Maybe. It's hard to say. I'm still running tests. The teleporter might have been an escape attempt, but if it is, it would be the first. The Think Tank believes it was an insurance policy, if we ever decided to pull the plug on his pet projects." She sighed, "We're making guesses right now."

Director Armstrong grunted, "We pull the plug and he simply hops to another dimension like our security never even mattered... can you be sure, either way?"

"I can't."

"Doctor?"

Lafayette shook her head helplessly, "I was hoping he'd give me a tell after I told him what we thought it was, take a moment to decide how to react, make up a story, hesitate. Something. But... he's too difficult to read. Sometimes it's almost like his human bodies go through the motions. But it's fake. Its like he's aping how he remembers acting. And sometimes I think it's almost genuine. But I just don't know where sincerity ends and acting begins."

"Actually..." They both turned to look at Dragon's laptop, "There's a theory making the rounds in the 'Tank. Hunch has suggested he might be encouraging additional security precautions. That might explain some things... his antagonizing of the staff among them."

Doctor Saybrooke blinked, looking off screen, though Lafayette guessed he was looking directly at his feed from Dragon, "Why ever would he do that?"

"Well, security goes both ways. It might be that he's worried about another patient, or something else." Dragon said.

Doctor Lafayette and Director Armstrong paused at that. Haywire was a top-tier parahuman, certainly one of the most powerful Tinkers alive. He stood, head and shoulders above the other patients at Alchemilla- the strongest by a wide margin. What could drive him to voluntary imprisonment?

"He did turn himself in." Doctor Lafayette said slowly, and looked to the Director, but Armstrong remained pensive, staring down into his mug.

Saybrooke shook his head, "What does it mean, to be a willing prisoner in a metal box, in almost complete isolation for the better part of two decades?"

"Our Thinker division is having trouble with his protections." Pinpoint grunted. "He gets harder and harder to track every year. If he gets loose I don't know if we'll be able to follow him, even assuming he decides to stay on Earth Bet." It was hard to tell what he was thinking, what with the scars on Pinpoint's face frozen in a perpetual snarl, but Doctor Lafayette thought his scowl was even more severe and sour than usual.

"I have similar reports from the Think Tank." Dragon said, "I have no idea how, but he's becoming a blind spot."

Armstrong was silent, frowning pensively, "I'll have our systems reviewed." He said at last, "Run this by the Think Tank. Without a concrete threat to plan against, there isn't much we can do on this end."

Armstrong looked up, "Moving on, system changes."

"He did agree to consult on the new security system, with conditions." Lafayette said, "We are ready to receive your specs, but he had a few ideas... He asked for record transcripts again, three of them."

Armstrong narrowed his eyes, "That makes twelve. Is there a common thread?" he asked.

"I'll vet his requests, but it's anyone's guess." Doctor Lafayette said, remembering the tank in his workshop, and the silvery spider inside the specimen case. The last thing he asked for was a drone from the Machine Army. His requests were eclectic, and varied. Exotic materials. Samples of Tinkertech with particular qualities.

But patient records were the most common currency. The one that he came back to the most. But there was no commonality. Some where patients at Alchemilla, some were active parahumans.

Speaking of patients...

"He implied that he speaks to The Horde again."

"Yes." Armstrong replied, "Are you certain they have never met?"

"He's talked about The Horde's power, he knows it and its mechanics; and he knew even before he saw The Horde's file." Doctor Lafayette said slowly, "But we have no record of them meeting. The Horde isn't cooperative when we ask him either. But then, he's never cooperative."

Director Armstrong nodded, and stood. He considered his coffee. "I want a list of every patient and member of staff that has ever had contact with either Haywire or The Horde... Or both. It could be mind games...But if it isn't..." Armstrong shot her a look, "Your professional opinion?"

That was a tricky question, Haywire was... erratic. Intelligent. Cunning. But also easily distracted. Particularly when presented with a new or interesting problem. Was he capable of that kind of elaborate manipulation? Yes, probably. Was it something he would do... Or, did he have anything to gain? 'Willing patient', when speaking of a parahuman, didn't carry the same connotations it might with most people. And Haywire was a model patient, apparently content to simply bide his time, year in and year out, waiting- but for what?

"I don't know. It could fall either way."

Director Armstrong frowned silently. On the laptop screen, Dragon sipped her coffee, occasionally glancing off-screen, her hands moving as she worked on some project or another. Lafayette caught sight of what looked like a soldering iron. For a moment, she was struck by a similarity between the two Tinkers, between Dragon and Haywire.

Doctor Lafayette sighed, and glanced away, at the cell, where Haywire still worked.

"Director, if I could speak freely?"

Armstrong nodded, "Of course."

Doctor Lafayette pressed on. "Director, with all due respect, there is a simple solution. It has worked in the past for similar cases in Tinkers and Thinkers who skirt the rules, and that is to remove the patient's resources. Transplant the patient to a new room, remove or discard all possessions. It is an effective deterrent to future attempts to flaunt the rules and removes the danger, all in one action."

Lafayette paused. She drank from her coffee. The silent tableau of Haywire working on the other side of the one-way glass continued. The only sound in the room was one of the silent PRT troopers shifting his feet.

She took a deep breath and made the plunge. "If that pad was indeed his insurance policy against leverage of that kind, now is the best time to act, and the window is closing. I've never been comfortable with this arrangement, I don't think any of the staff here ever were."

Power use therapy was one thing; but Haywire's access to resources and information was unprecedented, even among voluntary residents. Unprecedented, and dangerous when he kept toeing the line of what was acceptable behavior. Director Armstrong knew this. Lafayette glanced at Saybrooke.

"I was curious as well," Saybrooke murmured.

Dragon sat, silently watching from behind her coffee mug. Technically, she wasn't attached to the PRT command structure. This exchange did not concern her.

"Haywire's arrangement is the Chief Director's project. Everything surrounding him is classified to hell and back, and it all moves through Costa-Brown's office." Director Armstrong said, "My department only handles post-processing, and reverse engineering his technology is a high priority. We need his cooperation, and participation."

"And that's all?" Saybrooke replied, incredulous.

"You can fight the Chief Director's office, but Costa-Brown likes her projects to run smooth and quiet." Armstrong said, "And Haywire does bring in a significant portion of Alchemilla's funding. I wouldn't recommend it."

Doctor Saybrooke looked like he'd bitten a lemon.

Lafayette could imagine. It was disappointing but not unsurprising. Haywire's contributions to the understanding of powers could not be overstated. It was because of his insights that Alchemilla had access to power dampening pharmaceuticals, even if they were prohibitively expensive. Doctor Lafayette had even heard rumors of an integrated power dampening system for PRT facilities. His work was important. Director Hearthrow was especially vocal in this regard, but Costa-Brown was the silent impetus behind his projects, and she never gave ground.

Director Armstrong looked tired. His shoulders slumped, "Our mission is to contain a dangerous Tinker- and also hopefully rehabilitate him and induct him into the Protectorate. Haywire is strong enough it would be like having another of you..." Armstrong said, directing a nod to Dragon, "Instead of a controlled environment, we give him everything he asks for. It hamstrings you, Doctor, and undermines me."

Doctor Saybrooke leaned back passively observing. Doctor Lafayette wondered what he was thinking, perhaps he was wondering what he was walking into. Maybe he was reconsidering accepting the job?

"There isn't much for me to add. I'll email you a full debrief, but if we can't take away his toys there isn't much more we can do on this end." He paused. "I can authorize an extended lease on the staff we're contributing." Director Armstrong continued. "Until we can make more permanent transfers. You need the extra parahumans as it is."

Doctor Lafayette glanced towards Pinpoint, were he stood, "Thank you, sir."

"I will forward your recommendations to Director Costa-Brown. With some luck, we may already have what we need from Haywire. With more luck, you'll be able to pull the plug."

He set his mug down on the table. Both Doctor Lafayette and Director Armstrong stood. Doctor Lafayette turned back to the one-way glass, and looked out over Haywire's cell. The men inside continued working. She thought she caught a hint of movement over by the shelves out of the corner of her eye. But, when she looked, there was nothing there.

"Thank you for joining us Dragon, I appreciate your input." Director Armstrong said.

"It was a pleasure."

"Doctor Saybrooke, thank you."

"Of course."

Pinpoint stepped towards the table, and was about to collect Dragon's laptop, when she sat up straight, "One moment!" Dragon said, hands flying to her headset.

Doctor Lafayette blinked, turning back to the laptop. The troopers shuffled awkwardly, and Pinpoint scowled. On his laptop, Saybrooke had been about to stand. He slowly sat back down, looking mildly intrigued.

"Director, it's a code two. I have secondary confirmation coming in from the Guild and Suits." Dragon hesitated, "Earlybird system is triangulating the target, it looks like it'll hit somewhere in South Asia." She blinked, "Correction, it's Australia. Most likely Canberra. God, it's the Canberra Research Center."

Armstrong turned on his heel, stepping to the table, looming over Dragon's laptop and blocking Doctor Lafayette's view of Dragon. On the other feed, Saybrooke's mouth was a grim line.

A code two.

"Which one?" Director Armstrong demanded. "Is it one we know?"

Lafayette stepped up beside Armstrong just in time to catch Dragon's response.

"It's the Simurgh."

The Simurgh was attacking Canberra.


	35. Siren 5-1

**{A creature half bird and half woman who lured sailors to destruction by the sweetness of her song.}**

(•͈⌔•͈ ﾂ

The phone rang, out at the security station. I could feel it from where I sat at my computer, idling away the night; mostly in the reaction from the night watchman, the dull surprise and businesslike direction as he picked up. The vague sense of query as he answered. I think the night watchman's name was Jim... Jim Allbeck? I wasn't all that familiar with him, but I didn't need much clarity.

I'd felt it dozens of times before, using it as an excuse to try and sharpen my awareness of my power, but this time was different. It was Mr. Allbeck's emotions, they peaked- enough to distract me from the work on my computer screen. Urgent and surprised. Then fear began to creep in along with a sense of grim resolve.

What was that about?

Maybe his wife was pregnant and she'd gone into labor or something... At least it was a problem to work on, the change of pace was welcome.

...I was so damn bored.

It was quiet, and I was not engaged with the assignment in front of me. I huffed a sigh, and concentrated on balancing a pencil on my nose. The subtle input from my power, of the minute shifts in balance as I breathed, shifting my center of gravity and tilting the pencil, helped to distract me from the paper I was supposed to be writing.

The economic impact of Tinkers on the electronic and computer industry remained half finished on my computer screen.

It was a strange thing to think about- most parahumans were encouraged to get into law enforcement or the military. There was a decent presence in the entertainment industry- but there weren't a lot of places parahumans really flourished.

It was so odd. Parahumans could fly or pick up cars, but struggled to open businesses.

There were a couple, of course. But it was generally unwelcome. The onetime largest parahuman-owned business, Uppermost, stuck out. Both as an example of parahumans succeeding in the private sector, and as why they needed to be regulated...

I frowned. Something rubbed me wrong about that. It felt familiar, a distant parallel to the problems here at Alchemilla. I couldn't find anything particularly wrong with it, but it felt... Off. It also shot down a tentative idea I'd had for maybe becoming a psychologist. Thinkers, particularly broad Thinkers like me, had so many restrictions on them it was almost impossible to use their powers without being tied to a larger organization. I remembered the media furor over the Banner Act, but I hadn't even heard of the legislation that followed. I'd spent four hours trawling through the morass that was parahuman politics, and all I had learned was what I couldn't do with my powers.

With a sigh, I plucked the pencil off my nose.

There were other topics. I'd started on calculus and it'd been a challenge for a day or two... But the more I worked with it the easier equations became. New problems weren't doing much for me either.

I was almost certain at this point my power was not actually accelerating my learning exponentially- it didn't feel like that. It was too uneven. It felt more like... I wasn't sure what to call it. It wasn't super learning, it was like my power was tuning me in different ways, or pulling up information as I needed it. Or... That wasn't quite right either.

I started spinning the pencil over my fingers. The play of angles and weight in my mind engaged me for a bit. I drummed the fingers of my free hand on my notebook.

Disengaged from the present, my mind wandered, out into the hall outside, the dim awareness of the night guard where he quietly freaked out. Out into the block of rooms, and their occupants.

I briefly touched on Heather and Nick in their rooms. Heather was asleep, but Nick was still awake. Why was he still awake? I didn't think he had a power that prevented him from sleeping the way mine did. Go to sleep Nick.

Much further away, Mimi and Elle. Mimi's dreams were always troubled, full of sadness and hopelessness. Elle was... Strange. Her dreams were very vivid- or, at least they produced a very clear emotional response. I wondered if her power allowed her to dream lucidly. That was a concept I'd read about once when I'd looked up other Noctis parahumans- capes that that didn't need to sleep, like me.

That had taken me to lucid dreaming, and remembering the vision. Thinking about it made my head hurt.

Using my powers to peek into the other floors of Alchemilla was something I could manage more easily now. It didn't fill the space the boredom occupied, but trying to peek in on the remodeling in Administration was less tedious than math at the moment.

I was bored, so very bored and... restless.

My hero notebook beckoned, but the idea of reviewing or expanding my list of potential hero names, or experimenting with an actual cape in my costume... I sighed.

I thought about having another session with my journal, trying to meditate and seeing what it brought me this time.

Even at its best, early morning was pretty boring. Usually, but now...wait. I looked up from my coursework. What the hell?

The pencil slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor.

It was five in the morning, and there was a sudden flurry of activity on the periphery of my awareness.

There were ten times as many people as usual this time of the morning. And there was a lot of movement. People running around double-time, and in large groups.

I sat up.

Eyes closed I tracked nurses, doctors, security guards, even a janitor; all that I shared even a passing familiarity with. Most I probably would never have the attunement to effectively track, but there were so many...

I was starting to pick individuals from the milling crowd of presences. Was day shift coming on early? I could pick out one of the nurses from this morning, and one of the security guards that had come on just before curfew, Jazmine Franklin and Kurtis Adams.

What was happening?

I opened my eyes.

There were other presences, people moving out in the halls on this level now. I could feel a faint echo of their distant emotion and energy. All of them were agitated.

What was this? I leaned on my power, pressing for specifics. I could sense every one of my doctors, brighter beacons in the tide of bright lights. Doctor Yamada was here, she was back from rotation early? Doctor Selmy, Doctor Fox...

Something was happening. Something... Something was wrong. I felt my scalp prickle in response, goosebumps rising on my arms, and cold settled in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. There was movement everywhere.

Elevators were moving. The stairs were crowded. I was only vaguely familiar with nearly all of the moving bodies and my sense of the hospital only hinted at the numbers. A lot of them had converged on the cafeteria, I had no idea how many, and I had a sense of activity there. Not of people but of things. Architecture? The context of the cafeteria felt different. Were they moving the tables?

Why?

Why would they do that? We had breakfast in just a few hours.

There was movement in the main halls, movement in the infirmary and the cafeteria, movement in the gymnasium. Activity dipped and surged puzzlingly and it took me five baffled minutes to realize at least some of this increased traffic was passing through the service hallways that I shared no attunement with.

Movement only increased. I lay there, confused and bewildered. Security checkpoints were opened, people moved through them freely.

Was this some kind of emergency? A... fire maybe? I reached for a scenario in bewilderment, and drew a blank.

And then the tide of anxious people began to move down into the patient levels, and I followed its progress. The staff moving... this was something planned, they moved with purpose. I began to sense familiar presences in the mix, not doctors and nurses, patients. People that had been asleep in my extra awareness started waking up, and then they started moving. Some went back to their rooms. I thought I felt a short scuffle break out, quickly quelled. The perpetrator was moved, as I waited, the faint presence moved to an elevator and was relocated to a lower level. Medium security?

What the hell? What was going on?

Additional personnel arrived outside in my own block, at the security station. Six men. They hovered for several minutes, before moving out, going to doors-

A knock. I flinched and jumped to my feet, uncertain but definitely more awake than I could ever remember being- powers or not.

The door opened a moment later, and the night guard was standing there, fidgeting and nervous and making me even more nervous in turn.

"What's happening?" I blurted.

"There's an emergency meeting, you need to come with me." He replied gruffly.

"But what's happening?" I reached for my slippers, then thought better of it and grabbed my sneakers instead. Outside, bouncing on one foot as I slipped them on, I saw security leading out Nick, Heather, others. I met Heather's eyes and raised my eyebrows in a question, but she just shook her head subtly. I sensed... Confusion from her? Confusion. Suspicion. Discontent. She didn't know what was happening either.

There was a lot of confusion going around, fear and apprehension. A few cases of grim and cold dread, most of which were staff. And everywhere, urgency.

"Attention staff," the intercom chimed, "All personnel to muster stations. Repeat, all staff to muster stations. This is a class two event emergency. All staff to muster stations."

My eyes kept moving as we followed security, more familiar faces appeared. Copperquick, with his unruly mop, Charnel, serenely allowing herself to be led by one hand. Elsewhere, I could feel people converging. All around us, familiar presences converged on a larger gathering in the cafeteria. And when we entered, we were greeted with at least fifty staff, and another fifteen patients- not all of which I recognized. We walked by tables in the process of being folded up and rolled over beside the wall.

Mantellum was there, with his strange negative-space in my extra awareness, beside Inkling and Quilt and the others, the Case 53s. He caught my eye and gave a little nod.

The Case 53s were a knot of solidarity among the more chaotic mass, Inkling and Quilt anxious, but level- and Prowler among the number of the cold and grim. They stood in sharp contrast to others. Mimi and Elle were there, Mimi almost frantic and desperately wrestling with the roller coaster of emotion. Mumbling to herself and rubbing her arms. Elle stood directly beside her, looking around. Her face was, as always, flat and blank; but behind that she was interested, excited even.

I saw Summer Holiday, Feral, Kudzu. The other members of Summer's security squad. But what really caught my attention was a cluster of new faces at the other end of the room. I didn't recognize any of them. One, a woman in a black bodysuit with glowing blue lines, she thrummed with agitation. Another, a man in a blue bodysuit with red gloves and a red cape, and a red cloth mask tied over the top of his head with holes for his eyes and trailing long cloth ties.

But the one that drew my eyes, was the man standing in the center of the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, in full body armor, dark blue accented with silver highlights. His helmet covered most of his head, hiding his eyes and nose behind a visor, but left the lower half of his face bare, displaying a neatly-trimmed beard.

Armsmaster. Head of the Protectorate East-North-East. Right here, talking to a circle of doctors and nurses.

I tried to place the other man. Probably Tradewind- I guessed he was here to represent the Boston Protectorate in lieu of Bastion. Boston was pretty close, even if Brockton was the home of the regional office...

And the agitated woman in the illuminated bodysuit was probably Battery. Armsmaster and Battery, both of them were big names from Brockton, from back home. I was a little giddy, they were living legends that I'd looked up to as a child. Their presence did help still some of my trepidation, but why were they all here?

"Everyone up front, please keep moving." One of the senior nurses called, I think her name was Hernandez? I could see her beside Doctor Lafayette and Doctor Yamada. I kept looking for familiar faces, touching on my power when I couldn't find everyone, trying to keep track of all the movement on the other floors. There was just so much.

We were all ushered to the front, where a wide circle of tape had been laid out on the floor, fifteen feet across, and a few tables with benches had been pushed aside to leave an opening in the chaos of the cafeteria. We sat on one side, the Protectorate heroes stood across from us.

Armsmaster turned away from the doctors. He was bigger in person than I thought he'd be, taller. Maybe it was the armor? He took exactly one step forward, back straight and shoulders squared, and set the butt of his halberd down firmly with a clang. The sound sent a ripple through the room that quieted anxious whispers and turned every eye to him. This was the man that commanded the Protectorate ENE, and the entire room felt it.

Beside him, Doctor Lafayette also stepped forward, spine ruler-straight, expression stony.

"You're all wondering why you're here." She said, sternly sweeping them all with a glance, "...Well, I won't mince words. Two hours ago we received word from Dragon. The Red One warning system has determined the Simurgh is maneuvering, and that an attack is impending."

A chill ran down my back, the fear swept through the room in a brisk wave across everyone present. It bounced back in my extra senses, running down my back twice as strong in sympathy. The shock took my breath away and left my hands shaking.

The Endbringers were something that we all understood. They were forces of nature, disasters that touched everyone, that struck a chord of fear that we all knew, parahuman and staff alike. It struck a chord, fundamental to each of us. I remembered growing up, of every few months- my parents quiet and grim, talking quietly and giving me horrible false smiles. Moments of silence at school and quiet days when it seemed everyone at school talked in whispers.

Nights spent watching a flickering television as grim-faced news anchors tallied the dead and missing, and long bleak shots displayed the damage. I had always thought Emma was brave, she walked right up to people and started talking to them like she knew them their whole lives. But remembering it, she looked scared then. I wasn't used to seeing that on Emma.

Just like I wasn't used to feeling this kind of anxiety from normally cavalier Heather, or hollow dread from unflappable Doctor Yamada. It felt out of place and alien, but the sentiments were mirrored in the hints echoed in others I was less familiar with... In myself.

"Alchemilla is preparing to receive casualties of the projected attack. I am informing you so that none of you are taken by surprise. So you can understand what is going to happen for the next few hours or days." She said, "Alchemilla is one of hundreds of hospitals around the world that has volunteered to accept casualties. Many of our current patients have been confined to their rooms for the foreseeable future. Which leads me to the current issue- namely, all of you."

Doctor Lafayette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she cleared her throat, "There are a few patients cleared for activities outside Alchemilla," Doctor Lafayette's voice cracked, lightly. She was anguished, a complicated morass of sorrow, desperation, and anger. "I have a list of patients cleared for engagement, or for periphery support, by Manhunter. If... If you want to help, we are accepting volunteers. I hope that you can find it in your hearts to help us."

She swallowed thickly, and for the first time I realized she was tearing up. After a moment she glanced to Armsmaster, who nodded shallowly and stepped forward.

"The following parahumans have double-blue clearance, and have the go-ahead. Maser."

I glanced to the side, at Blake, who slouched at the end of the bench, eyes half lidded, expressionless. He stared at Armsmaster without blinking and didn't speak.

"Badcell. Young Lady. Facsimile."

I looked for the unfamiliar names, a boy of about eighteen, with tattoos up and down his arms. A woman with a faint haze lingering around her head, arms, any exposed skin. A thin, wan, unsmiling man with arms that hung limply at his side. All three wore blue.

"We have two minutes to teleport, do any of you wish to volunteer?" Armsmaster asked. I paused, feeling out the emotions of the room briefly. There was fear, that anxiety, trapped between offering and wishing someone else would first. At the end of the line, Blake crossed his arms, leaning back. He shook his head.

There was no sign that Armsmaster was disappointed by his refusal, not even to my senses. In fact, it almost felt like he expected it. A moment later, a young woman with brown hair stepped forward, I think I might have seen her once in the halls- she wore orange, but I didn't know her name. "I can help!"

Armsmaster stiffened, it might have been in surprise, or perhaps something else, "Zipline-"

"I'm a faster Strider. I don't need to get close to the fighting to help. Let me fucking help!"

Doctor Lafayette stepped forward, opening her mouth to protest, "Zipline, requirements for contact with the Simurgh are more stringent than other Endbringers, you are not-"

"You won't be fighting unless you have a Blue rating and clearance from the board, but we can use the logistical support. Can you follow orders? Work with Dragon and Hero?"

Doctor Lafayette spun on Armsmaster, "She isn't cleared!"

"We cannot afford to turn away help." Armsmaster replied, "Villain, independent or otherwise."

Zipline glared at Armsmaster- she was a villain?

"Can you follow orders?" Armsmaster repeated.

"Yeah." Zipline said, hands on hips and chin raised defiantly.

"Fine." Armsmaster grunted, Doctor Lafayette closed her mouth, I could see her jaw clench.

I took a deep breath. For a moment, it was quiet. I licked my lips, mouth dry and clenched my fists to keep my hands from shaking. I hesitated, but it was a little easier now that someone else had spoken first, even with the echo of the room's fear still cold on my back.

"I'd like to volunteer too."

Armsmaster turned towards me, his face unreadable behind that visor, "Auspice. Thinker, proximity based. New patient."

"Um. Yes." I said, wishing I had Zipline's confidence, but that was lost in the cold.

It was what heroes did, I'd grown up watching them fight the Simurgh and her minions on television. But faced with the reality that I could go out there, be part of that fighting... I was sure I could contribute too. I wasn't sure how, but a reason was sure to come to me, I was sure they could use as many hands as they could find.

A reel began to play in the back of my mind, names of heroes and villains that had died fighting the Endbringers. That had died to the Simurgh. An unending list of deaths and faces watched in the late night news, that blurred until in my mind's eye I saw Emma, Mimi, Elle, Heather and Nick.

"Denied." Armsmaster said, flatly.

I blinked. What? "I can help, my power gets stronger over time. Let me work with your Thinkers, or Tinkers."

"Auspice, you are a minor without approval for Endbringer engagement from your guardian. Denied."

Well, I felt crestfallen. But before I had time to examine that disappointment further, someone else spoke up.

"Um. I-I'd like to volunteer." Mimi stepped forward, and I stared. My heart leaped again, and this time the fear was for her. Mimi, she'd never even used her powers outside Alchemilla! "I-I've been getting better. A lot better. I want to help. I can help."

Armsmaster was silent a moment, "Teleportation unsuitable for logistic support. Pyrokinetic, unlikely to harm the Simurgh. A history of instability. Denied."

Mimi slumped a little, hurt. Her eyes darted towards me for a moment, there was a sense of question, of approval. It took me a moment to realize she had offered because of me, somehow.

Horror, this time the chill all my own, had she really just tried to volunteer because I had? Had she done it because she thought it was something I'd approve of?

Charnel stepped forward- "I volunteer."

I blinked. Charnel hadn't even been on the list, but her volunteering itself surprised me. I couldn't imagine her being invested in something like this, she so rarely engaged, and when she engaged it was so subdued... I was floored.

Armsmaster paused, then tapped the side of his helmet. He remained like that for several long seconds, listening to some distant communication. With Dragon, maybe? Maybe whatever collection of Thinkers was tasked with vetting the volunteers?

"Charnel." There was a pause. I had the most uncanny impression her was reading something behind his visor. He opened his mouth, then hesitated, "Manhunter."

"Sorry, but people are my specialty." Another voice chimed in. It was coming from Armsmaster's suit, I guessed from some hidden speaker system. The voice was reedy, nasally, it put me in mind of a skinny man with big coke-bottle glasses somewhere. Not one of the greatest Thinkers alive.

"I'd like to vouch for Charnel here. I've reviewed her case history. My models give her a seventy percent chance of complete immunity to master influences. Dragon can corroborate. We have a green light on my end." Manhunter said.

Armsmaster hesitated, "Dragon?"

"He's right," a woman's voice this time, with a slight accent, "Charnel's got the green light on our end." She didn't sound pleased.

Dragon, another of the biggest names on the Think Tank, one of the greatest Tinkers in the world.

Armsmaster grunted, "Granted. However, you will be paired with a Protectorate handler."

"I got her," Feral said, stepping over to Charnel and laying a hand on her shoulder, "I've worked with her before."

"Thanks. Best of luck, Kalie." Dragon said.

"No problem, best of luck wrangling those evacuation routes Manny."

"Awww man..." Manhunter groaned one last time.

Another long pause, Armsmaster said nothing. The strange impression that his attention was somewhere else on the other side of his visor persisted, "Understood. Anyone else?" Armsmaster asked, "Twenty seconds. Everyone who's coming, step into the circle." Armsmaster indicated the circle on the floor.

The Protectorate heroes, Charnel, Zipline, Feral, Summer Holiday, everyone stepped into the circle.

"Five." Armsmaster warned. Almost at the same time, the intercom chimed, "Attention staff, attention staff. Teleportation imminent, teleportation imminent."

A moment later a man popped into existence. Dark blue coat and pants, a cap and goggles. He glanced around the room, taking stock. "This everyone?" he asked, "We're on a tight schedule." He had a faint New England accent with... a bit of irish?

He looked terrible actually, even without his face visible- shoulders stooped and head hanging, he looked exhausted already.

"Yes, let's go." Armsmaster said.

I looked at them, at Feral- Kalie, standing with Charnel. Kalie smiled back, everlasting good cheer, and that fearlessness I had come to expect from her. Charnel met my gaze. I couldn't sense what she was feeling, I had trouble imagining what she had to be thinking. I wanted to ask them questions. Understand why they were going out to fight that monster. I wanted to believe I'd have the chance later, if they came back. When. When they came back.

They were coming back. They had to be.

The volunteers were moving. The parahumans that had been gathered with Armsmaster and Battery and the rest- they all moved into the circle. I looked from one to another, memorizing costumes, faces and masks.

I wanted to remember them. Look them up later. I would know each and every one of them.

"Right. Stay still everyone." A moment later, and everyone in the circle disappeared with a pop.

For a moment I pushed, looking for their presence, the impression I had attuned myself to. Partially... Partially curious, partially something else. Fear. But they were gone.

Into the sudden silence, the intercom blared again, "Attention. Attention. The Simurgh has entered the atmosphere. Repeat. The Simurgh has entered the atmosphere."


End file.
